Good Evening, Potter
by Super-Mogils
Summary: New Summary.  A story about denial, inevitable love, trust and, of course, Harry and Draco getting it on. How the 6th year really went. ON HIATUS
1. Ordinary Day? Denied!

**ORDINARY DAY? DENIED!**

Harry did not doubt for a second that his two best mates were completely and totally insane. Here they were, once more, biting each other's heads off. All because what? Ron didn't finish his essay. Harry swore that they argued for the fun of it sometimes.

"Ronald, don't you understand that you aren't going to excel in anything if you don't do your work!"

"Hermione, don't you understand that the only person who actually does all their assignments is you!"

"I swear, sometimes I wonder how you managed to pass all of your classes."

"Stop wondering! Wondering leads to nagging and nagging leads to me not giving a rip!"

Harry stepped in, "Will you two just give it a rest already!" The two looked at him angrily. Harry rolled his eyes. It was useless with them. Honestly. He couldn't tell if admitting their feelings for each other would make the fighting better or worse.

As Harry looked down sullenly at his porridge, he felt someone's gaze burning into him. Looking up, he caught eyes with Draco Malfoy who was in a fit of hysterics, along with several other Slytherins, as he watched Harry.

_Git_, Harry thought to himself while he took a sip of pumpkin juice.

To the Slytherins' amusement, Harry immediately spit the drink out, realizing all too late that it was not pumpkin juice. Malfoy and his cronies howled, Harry glared, and Ron and Hermione were still bickering.

Another ordinary day.

HDHDHDHD

Draco was in a fantastic mood as he entered the Potions room. Catching a glimpse at Potter, he could tell that his rival was not in such high spirits. The drink that Draco had managed to swap with Potter's pumpkin juice was supposed to leave a nasty taste in your mouth for a full twenty four hours, and Potter didn't seem to be enjoying a single second of it. Granger and the Weasel were arguing next to him, something Draco noticed they did very often lately. Smirking at Potter, who sent him a rather nasty scowl, Draco sat down, eyes fixated on Snape as he stormed in. As much as people made fun of Snape for the billowing robes act, Draco was impressed. It was part of the reason the students feared him so much. People will fear anyone who knows how to make an entrance.

"Wands away," Snape barked without turning to look at his students. "Textbooks out. Page 286. Begin." With that, he sat down at his large desk and began sorting through papers. Malfoy eagerly looked through the ingredients of today's potion, a Befuddlement Draught. He always got excited when it came to potions. Next to Granger, he was the best in the class. After memorizing the ingredients, Draco got up to go retrieve them from supply cabinet.

An hour and 15 minutes later, Draco was almost done, only needing to wait 5 more minutes before adding the scurvy grass into the potion. He snickered as he looked over at the mess that Potter had made. Instead of the dark blue colour it was supposed to be, Potter had managed to make his potion some sickly orange hue. He glared over at Draco who continued to smirk as he added his last ingredient, stirred clockwise 4 times, and then scooped it up into a small vial to present it to Snape. He was the first one who had completed his potion, and with an extra twenty minutes to spare. Draco loved Potions.

HDHDHDHD

Harry stormed out of the Potions room. He was furious. Not only had his Befuddlement Draught turned out wrong, but Malfoy had paraded about the room for twenty minutes after he had finished his, commenting on everyone else's potions. Harry was glad to get out of there.

"Malfoy's such a git," he grumbled to Ron and Hermione as they made their way to their next glass.

"Yes mate, we know. You've been saying that nonstop since he messed with your pumpkin juice this morning." Even Ron wasn't up for discussing Malfoy's annoying tendencies right now.

"Relax, Harry. We don't have classes with the Slytherins for the rest of the day. Now do try to focus on your studies and less on Malfoy is doing. Honestly between the two of you, it's a wonder you ever get anything done!" she said, exasperation in her voice as she headed to Arithmancy. Ron and Harry gave each other pointed looks as they headed towards Divination.

By the time dinner came around, Harry had mostly forgotten about Malfoy. He and Ron were laughing at a joke that Ron had made of Professor Binns during History of Magic. Hermione joined them at the Gryffindor table.

"You seem to be in a better mood," she said as she helped herself to some food.

"Yeah," he agreed, still chuckling at the image of Professor Binns lecturing himself to death. "I don't know what was wrong with me this morning. Malfoy just gets under my skin, sometimes. Sorry," he apologized, yawning. It had been a long day.

"Harry, you should probably get some sleep. Maybe you'd be less irritable," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"Gee, thanks Hermione," he replied, but agreed to go get some sleep. As he stood up from the Gryffindor table, he couldn't help but look over at the Slytherins. The blond git was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging it off, Harry told himself that he didn't care, and left the Great Hall.

As he was walking through the corridors, he was sure that he had heard footsteps out of sync with his own. He stopped for a moment, listening. The second pair of footsteps faltered, quickly stopping after him. Hesitantly, Harry continued walking, only to hear to second pair of footsteps _again_. He stopped again. His fingers lingered towards his want. _Malfoy…_he thought to himself. In a flash, he turned around, chest heaving, looking around wildly to find the other boy. But there was no one else in the corridor but Harry. He slowly put his wand back in his pocket.

"I'm going mad…" he said to himself, before turning around again, only to face…

"MALFOY!" he cried, reaching for his wand again, but he wasn't fast enough. Malfoy had him pinned against the corridor wall, towering over him. Harry braced himself for the punch he knew was coming when suddenly he felt hot breath against his ear.

"Good evening, Potter." Malfoy's voice was filled with lust and longing, but still with a hint of mocking, as if this was purely for Harry's humiliation and Malfoy's amusement.

"Er…Malfoy?" Harry didn't know how to handle this. Push him away? Of course he would push him away! Why wouldn't his arms move! Malfoy's tongue started doing some very interesting things to his neck before Harry came crashing back down into reality. Malfoy was tonguing his neck! Harry's arm muscles snapped to attention and shoved the taller blond away as hard as he could. Malfoy only laughed, taking another step towards Harry. This time, however, Harry was faster, pulling out his wand and outstretching his arm so that the tip was right in Malfoy's face.

"Ever do that again, and I'll hex you back to the Malfoy Manor!" Harry screeched in panic. Malfoy stayed put and without another word, Harry was running as hard as he could. Away from the blond. Away from his mouth, his tongue, his hands. Away from the incident. _Some Gryffindor_, Harry thought to himself before arriving at the portrait of the Fat Lady, looking over his shoulder to make sure Malfoy hadn't followed him.

"Patefio Modo" he spoke shakily. The portrait swung open and he dove inside. Slamming the portrait shut behind him, Harry slumped down onto the floor with his back against the wall, breathing heavily.

_What…the bloody hell….was that about?_

HDHDHDHD

Draco looked around the corridor curiously. How did he get here? He remembered sitting at the Slytherin table, laughing with Blaise and Pansy about this morning's practical joke on Potter, and the next thing he knew, he was standing here, in a corridor near the Great Hall. Try as he may to bring back some memory as to how he got here, Draco could only remember the jump from the table to now. To say the least, he was very confused and, for some reason, excruciatingly tired. He ambled back to the Dungeons, still trying to sort out the whole situation.

"Nullus Retinentia," he mumbled absent-mindedly before the portrait of the Slytherin dormitories swung open and he stepped inside.

As Draco slept that night, he dreamed a vague dream about Potter, a corridor, and an unfulfilled desire…

When he woke up the next morning, however, he had forgotten about it all.

**A/N: Okay so I hope this wasn't too short. I wish it **_**had **_** been longer though. Oh well. So, it's WAY too soon in the story to tell but are there ANY guesses as to what's going on with Draco? **

**Aaaand, there's a little fun in this chapter because there is a hidden significance in the passwords! R N R! I love you all!**


	2. That Pressure in My Groin

**THAT PRESSURE IN MY GROIN**

Harry had pondered all night whether or not he should tell Ron and Hermione about the incident with Malfoy. After all, they had told him that they were tired of hearing him complain about him all the time. It was always 'Malfoy' this and 'what a git' that. Ron had actually snapped at Harry in the common room the other day because Harry had apparently, been mumbling on and on for almost an hour about how stupid and stuck up Malfoy had been that day.

But this was totally different! Malfoy had very forwardly come onto him! The git had licked his neck! It wasn't Malfoy just being a git…or was it? Could Malfoy possibly be trying to get some kind of reaction out of Harry? Maybe try to make him look like a fool? Harry had to admit, he had come very close to embracing the taller boy…that was until he realized it was Draco bleeding Malfoy! Imagining the worse from the other boy, Harry decided that this was definitely some plan of Malfoy's to make Harry look stupid…again. Well it wouldn't work this time! Harry would make sure of that.

He thought back to the incident and remembered how gentle Malfoy had been, how he seemed eager to touch Harry, to kiss him. Harry wondered what would have happened if he had let it continue. If Malfoy had pulled back and looked down at Harry, before coming in close to kiss his lips.

Harry snapped to reality again. Looking down at his pants, he moaned in alarm. _Cold shower, now_, he told himself, rushing to the bathroom before anyone else had the chance to see his…erm…problem. Swiftly locking the door behind him, Harry took off his clothes, and looked down at his growing issue.

"Go away!" he yelled, flailing his arms. But good Lord, he must have looked foolish. He felt his cheeks turning pink and he jumped in the shower, letting the freezing water hit his lower region without mercy. He hissed at the uncomfortable sensation, but immediately, his erection began to subside. He sighed in relief before making the water a bit warmer (only a bit though! Wouldn't want to get _too _comfortable…) He groaned. Thanks to Malfoy, Harry was taking a cold shower today. This was ridiculous. Harry made sure that it was as quick as possible.

HDHDHDHD

Draco woke up with a brutal headache. "Ahhhh!" he cried out, waking up his entire dorm. He clutched at his head, inhaling deeply. His head felt like someone had filled his skull with fiendfyre, and his vision was spotty, like he hadn't eaten for three days and then decided to immediately stand up.

"Draco what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Blaise muttered from his bed.

"My…brain…is…BURNING!" he screeched, writhing on his bed.

"Well, could you please keep it down? We're not all morning people." Blaise groaned before turning over, trying to grab a few more minutes of sleep before he had to get up.

Draco was still thrashing on the bed, trying to make the excruciating pain in his head stop. He waited and waited and waited, his face contorted in agony. Slowly, though, he felt it start to recede and he sighed deeply. What a relief. Swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and rubbing his eyes, Draco noticed that he felt odd, different. Trying to avoid another head rush, he slowly stood and walked to the mirror. What he saw made him gasp.

He still had impossibly pale skin, grey eyes and blonde hair. But he looked…_different._ Almost as if all his facial features had shifted overnight. He still looked like Draco but…not quite. His face was more slender, his eyes were a little wider, his lips were a tad fuller and his nose was just a bit smaller. It didn't look like a bad change. He would even say he look rather good, though he was still concerned about why. Trying to shrug it off, he started towards the bathroom but gasped again as he stepped away from the mirror. Were those…muscles? Draco hadn't always been built, he had a lean figure. But he saw that his muscles had seemed to fill out overnight. He looked less like a seeker and more like a chaser. He panicked, worried his agility and speed had been altered. After a few quick foot tests, though, he realized that the only thing that were different were his external looks. After a few more seconds, he realized how ridiculous he was being: worried because he had sprouted muscles? He shook his head, God he could be weird sometimes.

"Blaise," he called out shakily to his friend's sleeping form, keeping his eyes on the mirror.

"Hmph?" Blaise groaned in his sleep.

"Do I look…different to you?"

"You always look like a git," he mumbled back unhelpfully. Draco scowled at him

"Can always count on you, Zabini." He muttered before turning away from the mirror to go take a shower.

HDHDHDHD

Harry was glaring at Malfoy but the other boy didn't seem to notice him. Instead, Malfoy was looking at his reflection on the back of a spoon. Harry snorted, _egotistical git_. Why hadn't he looked at Harry once? Was he avoiding him? Had he totally forgotten about last night?

Harry shook his head. He was thinking like a girl. He told himself that he didn't care about Malfoy. In fact, the more he avoided him, the better. Even after last night…no, _especially_ after last night. Malfoy had no right to touch him like that…to lick him like that, to whisper so lustfully in his ear, to make him feel like he was desirable, to make him want to just grab Malfoy by the front of his robes and—

_Bloody hell, get a grip! _Harry told himself, trying to breathe evenly. This was probably all part of Malfoy's big plan! Make Harry think that the whole thing had meant something. Of course it hadn't! It was Draco bloody Malfoy!

Harry nodded resolutely to himself. He wouldn't care about Malfoy! He _didn't_ care about Malfoy! Malfoy was, as previously stated; a complete and total git, and Harry didn't want anything to do with him…He was _happy _Malfoy was ignoring him. Good riddance.

Harry must have been mumbling out loud because Ron and Hermione were looking at him as if he had just suggested that pulling mandrakes could be a remedy for bad headaches.

"Erm…you all right, mate?" Ron asked carefully, as if he was worried Harry might go into another rant about Malfoy like he had yesterday.

"Fine, never better," Harry spoke brightly, trying to convince himself more than his friends. Hermione studied him and Harry gulped nervously. He was 100% positive that Hermione could see right through him, almost as if every little thought in Harry's mind was etched out on his face for her to see.

However, she let go of it for now and dropped it, apparently trying to distract Harry from his hatred towards Malfoy.

"So…Harry…how's Quidditch been?"

HDHDHDHD

Malfoy just didn't get it. Was he the only one who had noticed his sudden transformation? Did no one else see it? He hadn't wanted to ask any of the other Slytherins, as desperate as he was for input. He was supposed to be confident in his looks and asking others about them would make him seem doubtful of his (very manly!) beauty. So he was sitting here, staring at a spoon, looking very much like the vain boy he truly was, trying to figure out what the bloody hell was going on with him.

"Pansy, dear?" he asked nonchalantly, trying to sound as confident as possible.

"Yes, Draco?"

"Do I look different to you?" Pansy stared at him for a moment and then giggled at his question. He raised a single questioning eyebrow.

"Well, you always look fit, Draco. Everyone knows that." She seemed to think that he was asking her if she thought he looked good which was what he was worried about in the first place.

Draco didn't know why, but he felt that this sudden change was Potter's fault. Yes, he would blame Potter for it. Draco found that he instantly felt better and didn't look at his spoon for the remainder of breakfast.

HDHDHDHD

_Git git git git git! _Harry thought to himself as he watched Malfoy lazily perform the spell they had been instructed to do for Charms. They were supposed to be making water spurt from the tip of a needle. The water part was easy enough; it was getting it to come out of the needle tip that was a bit more difficult.

Harry hadn't even attempted to start in on his needle. He was too busy glaring at Malfoy. Stupid arse, with his stupid water-spouting needle, Harry fumed. Since Hermione was currently helping Ron with his needle, which had managed to start drilling holes into the desk on its own accord, Harry was free to scowl in Malfoy's direction without interruption. Harry noticed that Malfoy was smirking to himself. _Stupid git_.

What gave Malfoy the bloody right to corner him in the corridor the way he had, and to touch him the way he had? Harry, for the billionth time since the night before, went over the scenario in his mind. Malfoy shoving him against the wall, bringing his lips close to Harry's ears, and the seductive way he had murmured, 'Good Evening, Potter'.

Harry felt his cock twitch as he remember the feel of the hot breath against his neck, the way Malfoy had pressed up against him. How Harry's voice had almost mumbled out, "Mmm, Draco…"

Suddenly, there was a spark from across the room and Harry, along with the rest of the class, looked over. Malfoy was staring at him, wide-eyed; and instead of water, there was now fire shooting out of his needle in every direction. It quickly began to heat up, turning from bright yellow to orange until it was red hot and then, without warning, the needle combusted, and shards of scorching metal flew everywhere. People were ducking and diving under their desks to avoid the sharp, blazing fragments.

Harry was quick to cover his face and duck his head in order to evade the metal pieces; but when he looked back to where Malfoy had been sitting, Harry saw that the blond haired git had vanished. He was nowhere in sight. This was Harry's only chance, while there was a distraction, to confront Malfoy. Without wasting another breath, Harry hurriedly jumped up and sped out the door, following Malfoy's retreating form that was sprinting down the corridor.

_Oh no you don't_, Harry thought as he followed behind. He tried to catch up to Malfoy but the other boy had already gotten a huge head start. Harry looked around, trying to find any hidden passages he might know. Recognizing one of shortcuts he had learned from Fred and George in fourth year, Harry quickly dove behind a multi-colored tapestry, and tried to move as quickly as he could through the dark, small, cramped tunnel. He reached the end of the passageway in no time and heard Malfoy's loud footsteps coming closer…and closer…and closer…until—

"Malfoy!" Harry jumped on the blond, tackling him to the ground. Straddling Malfoy's stomach and pinning him to the floor, Harry felt a wave of triumph. He couldn't get away this time.

"Potter! Get off of me!" Malfoy tried to shove the smaller boy off but Harry managed to keep him down, digging his knees into Malfoy's forearms.

"Not until you tell me why the bloody hell you decided to tongue my neck last night!" he yelled, making Malfoy wince at his loud voice. To hell with acting cool about it; Harry wanted answers, and he wanted them _now_.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about Potter," Malfoy sounded unsure of himself, but struggled to get up, nonetheless. "Now get _off!_" He tried giving another shove, but to no avail, Harry had him totally pinned. Good Lord, could the git please stop struggling so much! The constant friction was causing some very bizarre things to occur in Harry's groin.

"No! Explain! Don't play this stupid innocent act with me! I'm not some clueless professor!" Harry was furious, how dare Malfoy try to make him look like a fool! There was no way he was letting the blond leave this corridor until he had fully explained himself.

Malfoy gave up struggling for a moment, looking pensive. Harry watched him cautiously, unsure of whether or not to trust this moment of delay. Malfoy chewed on his lower lip somewhat nervously and took a deep breath, seeming to come to a decision on some internal struggle.

"Potter…" he murmured softly, similarly to how he had the night before. He looked up into Harry's emerald green eyes and Harry searched Malfoy's face for some emotion, something to give away the meaning behind Malfoy's actions, but he couldn't read him at all. Harry subconsciously leaned down a little, to hear Malfoy's words better.

Dear Lord, Malfoy's lips did look very pink and full…very kissable…Harry wondered how it would taste to nibble…to lick…

WHAM!

Next thing he knew, Harry was being thrown across the floor, and preceded to hit the stonewall with an audible _thud_. Before he could even move, he heard footsteps moving at a sprint getting farther and farther away until…silence.

Harry tried to get up as fast as he could but there was a huge ache in his back where he had banged against the wall.

"Bloody…git…" he mumbled into the empty corridor. This was not the end of this. Not even close…

HDHDHDHD

Draco paced his dorm worriedly.

What the bloody, bloody hell of all bloody hells…?

There he had been, performing the spell perfectly in Charms, all too aware of Potter glaring at him, when all of a sudden, he got this huge mental image of him shoving Potter against the wall of a corridor, and whispering passionately in his ear. Draco's vision had gone blank and all he could see was him and Potter, alone in that corridor, just seconds away from snogging. He could feel the desire and anger and confusion all rolling off of Potter in heavy waves. Potter _wanted_ him to kiss him, he was imagining it, he wanted it. He wanted Draco's hands to travel across his body. He wanted to be touched. He wanted to be felt.

As Draco's mind explored the memory, he felt the temperature in the room start to rise, and his ears started ringing as a pressure pushed down on his crotch area.

The next thing he knew, his needle, which had been spouting water beautifully before, started chaotically shooting fire in all directions, building up heat until suddenly combusted, sending fragments everywhere. That's when Draco realized why Potter had been so angry this morning, why he had been glaring at him more than usual.

The memory he had seen was real. He had assaulted Potter. The idea made him want to retch, but at the same time, the lovely and familiar pressure began to push down on his crotch again, and he quickly tried to shove the memory out of his mind.

Draco rubbed his temple, trying to sort everything out; but he just kept coming up with a jumbled mess.

Groaning in frustration, Draco flung himself onto his bed, trying to relax.

Draco hear the door open and thought nothing of it, that is, until he heard that voice that had become to bane of his existence over the last six years.

"Malfoy," every nerve in Draco's body froze as he looked around in panic, not seeing anything. He heard a muttered, _Colloportus_—which locked the door—a swish of fabric, and the next thing he knew, Potter was looking at him angrily, pointing his wand directly at Draco's face, shaking with fury. "We never finished our discussion."

**A/N: I'm sorry for the cliffy but this just seemed like the right spot to stop. Also, I think I was quite generous in this chapter. It is pretty long. Although I admit that there was limited to no slash. Patience people! The boys shall kiss soon! I'm just waiting for the right moment. Don't worry my loverlies. I send you all non-malicious virtual cookies to munch on while you read! XOXO **

**P.S. Oh yeah, sorry if the title was a bit crude, but I like it so =P**


	3. Lose Control

**LOSE CONTROL**

Draco couldn't breathe.

"P-Potter! What are you doing here! Get out!" He yelled. Why was Potter here? In his room? But Draco already knew the answer to that question. Potter was here to interrogate, to question. Draco panicked, realizing he didn't have any answers to give the other boy. He briefly hoped his bed wasn't too messy.

"I'm here to finish our conversation Malfoy," Potter replied, looking angrier by the second. But good Lord, he looked pretty cute when he was furious. It made his eyes flash brightly, dangerously. Draco felt a shudder travel down his spine. _Stop thinking like that!_

"There's no conversation to finish! I already told you that I haven't the bloodiest idea what you're talking about!" Even as he said it, Draco knew it was a lie, and he could tell from the flicker in the other boy's eyes that Potter did too. Crap, he was trapped in his own deceit. Draco waited nervously for what he was sure would be a enraged reaction.

"I'm not taking that crap, Malfoy!" he was getting seriously pissed. _He's kinda cute when his face gets all pink like that_…Draco shook his head hard, getting the repulsive thought out of his head. Potter was _not_ cute, not even on his best day, if he had one. The two boys continued to stare at each other, one in total fury, the other in complete alarm.

Suddenly, a muffled voice spoke from the other side of the door.

"Draco," it was Zabini, "you coming for supper?"

Draco was about to jump on the offer, anything to get out of here, when Potter shot him a warning glare, causing Draco to choke on his words. He did not fail to notice that Potter's wand was still directly in his face.

"Erm…" Draco started, and another look from Potter urged him to finish, "You go on without me…I'm…um…not hungry." His voice was unsteady, and he hoped Zabini would just knock down the door and save him, but he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Whatever…" the other Slytherin mumbled from the other side of the door.

Draco heard Blaise's footsteps as he left and Draco's stomach filled with butterflies. He had never been so scared in his life.

"We can make this quick and painless, Malfoy. You can run along to supper soon enough once you tell me what's going on," Potter's voice sounded dangerous. _He means business_. But Draco had nothing to tell him! He had no explanation! What was he supposed to say, 'Why, Potter, now that you mention it, I must admit, I've taken a fancy to molesting you in the corridors now. Hope you don't mind it!' Yeah, that'd _really_ satisfy Potter's demanding questions.

Draco was panicking; scrambling for some explanation so that Potter wouldn't hex him. He briefly looked out the window; the sun had set. It was dark outside. He was going to be missing dinner for sure. Draco was about to just open his mouth and declare insanity when suddenly, his hands started to tingle and he unexpectedly, unwillingly took the back seat in his own mind…

HDHDHDHD

Harry was furious. Malfoy was still playing around with his head. But it wasn't going to work. He was determined not to leave until he got his answers. It had been a close one with Zabini. Harry had been worried he would try to unlock the door. Luckily for Harry, he had just left.

But now Malfoy was behaving oddly. He looked panicky, not keeping his signature Malfoy composure at all. Harry eyed him suspiciously, trying to figure out what the blond was up to.

Suddenly, Malfoy's face went blank, and he looked a little dazed, like he was in a different world.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked shakily. He didn't know what was going on and he didn't like it. But he tried to remain calm and wait for everything to play out. Harry had learned from years of experience that if you just stayed put and were patient, everything would reveal itself in time.

A few things all suddenly happened very fast. First, Malfoy's face shifted from the dazed and confused expression into one of mischief and lust, the corners of his mouth curling up into an impish smirk. Second, Harry's wand shot from his hand as he heard the word '_Expelliarmus' _escape from Malfoy's lips. And third, Malfoy began taking several steps towards Harry, until the Gryffindor's back was pressed against the wall, with no escape whatsoever.

_Bloody hell,_ Harry thought to himself, _not again_…

Malfoy stared at Harry with a mixture of longing and wickedness. He reached out an arm to stroke the side of Harry's cheek, caressing the smooth, golden skin. His smirk grew as Harry allowed a contented sigh to leave his lips. Malfoy chuckled darkly.

"Good evening, Potter," he muttered. Those three words brought Harry crashing back to his senses as he recalled the scenario from the previous night. Shaking his head to clear it, he fixed a glare on his face and snarled at the taller boy.

"Stop playing around Malfoy!" he tried to sound authoritative but it came out sounding much more frightened than he hoped. He cursed himself for making himself so vulnerable.

It was then that Harry realized that he had never been able to hide his feelings from Malfoy, who always brought out the worst in him. Ever since Draco had challenged Harry to a duel in their first year, Harry had always let his emotions take control of his actions. Malfoy could read him like a book, and for that, Harry hated him.

Malfoy's words brought Harry back to the present.

"Oh please," Malfoy spoke as he brought his face very close to Harry's. "Call me Draco…" his breath ghosted across Harry's face as the smaller boy's eyes widened at his words.

"Mal—" before he could verbally attack the tall blond, he felt soft lips touching his and long, slender fingers sliding from his cheek to wrap themselves in his hair. Harry panicked but didn't move; he couldn't move. His bloody arms wouldn't budge!

Malfoy's other hand snaked around Harry's waist to pull him closer as he deepened the kiss.

Harry felt Malfoy's tongue reaching forward to part his lips and Harry, without another thought, complied as he melted into the touches. Malfoy's tongue slid into Harry's mouth, and the young Gryffindor let out a small whimper.

Slowly, his arms regained feeling, but instead of pushing the blond away, he carefully brought them around Malfoy's neck, pulling him closer. Harry pressed his body flush against Malfoy's and the kiss suddenly changed its tempo.

He felt the Slytherin's lips smirk against his own, and in a flash Harry's arms were being pinned on either side of his head against the wall.

Malfoy grinned wickedly as he brought his mouth down to Harry's collarbone, nibbling at the skin gently. Harry let out a gasp and then a long moan. Every part of him was on fire and he felt his groin aching. He tried to thrust himself up against Malfoy, but the blond teasingly stepped a little ways away, just out of Harry's reach.

The brunette panted in frustration as Malfoy's strength kept him where he was, with his back against the wall, and at the mercy of the Slytherin's ministrations. He stared into the blond's silver eyes, silently begging for more physical contact.

_What was happening to him…?_

HDHDHDHD

Draco watched in horror as his own body betrayed him. Unlike last night, where he had completely blacked out and hadn't remembered anything the next day, he was now looking on, witnessing the entire development happen before his own eyes. He struggled to get back into his own body, to control his own actions; but he was stuck here, trapped in his own mind, as this other person, this boy who told Potter to call him Draco, tongued and kissed the small whimpering brunette. Draco wanted to scream, to yell; anything to gain power over his body again. But all he could do was struggle. What the bloody hell was going on!

Despite his inability to move his own body, Draco could still feel everything that these intimate touches were doing to him. He felt himself getting hard and his legs getting weak, his mouth watering for the other boy's skin.

As much as he tried to fight it, Draco couldn't help but admit how soft and pliable Potter's lips were, how smooth and taut his skin was, how bright and captivating his eyes were.

Speaking of those emerald green orbs, Draco noticed that Potter was now staring up at him, almost as if he was trying to see _into _Draco. The Slytherin wanted to jump up and down, to scream '_This isn't me!_' but he couldn't, all he could do was follow the lead of whatever it was that had taken control of his body, of his free will.

Suddenly, Potter was pushing Draco away, though somewhat gently.

"Malfoy—" Draco felt himself raise one single eyebrow.

"Ah ah ah, Potter," Draco heard himself warn at the sound of his last name.

"Draco…" Potter whispered huskily, complying with the request that the blond had made earlier. The sound made Draco melt inside and he felt his body sigh in contentment. Before Potter could continue whatever he was about to say, Draco pressed one pale finger against Potter's moist pink lips, silencing him.

"Potter, don't talk, you'll ruin it," with that, he reached out and took Potter's hand in his own. He felt the other's boy's fingers wrap around his and Draco smirked, knowing he had complete control over the Gryffindor. He drew the hand up to his lips, kissing the golden skin. Draco grinned as he felt the shiver that ran through Potter's body.

Suddenly, Draco slowly felt the control coming back to him. Moving his toes in his shoes experimentally, he was relieved to discover that he had his own body back. He let out a silent sigh, before realizing that his fingers were still intertwined with Potter's. He froze, unsure of what to do.

_Send him on his way…you'll see him again soon…_a voice whispered in his ear. Draco decided to listen to its instructions, seeing as he had no other plan.

"On your way, then Potter" Draco spoke, trying to add a hint of seductiveness to his voice, hoping he sounded the same as he had before.

Potter accepted this. Draco watched as the Gryffindor walked dazedly over to the bed, picked up his wand from where Draco had left it, scooped up his Invisibility Cloak, and wrapped it around himself. Draco looked away, trying to smother the feeling of loss that ran through him as he watched Potter ready himself to leave. He heard the door unlock and open; with a swish of fabric, Potter was gone.

_Good night, Draco_…the voice whispered before abandoning Draco as well. He found himself alone in his room and found that he didn't like it one bit.

HDHDHDHD

Harry wandered the corridors of the castle, trying to piece his thoughts together. He had gone to the Slytherin dorms, demanding answers, but all he had come back with was an unsatisfied erection, messy hair, and bruised lips.

Malfoy had been so aggressive, so demanding of Harry's lips, of his tongue. It made Harry shiver with pleasure. He thought back to how Malfoy had knotted his fingers into his hair, pulling at him lustfully. He remembered the look of desire he had seen in Malfoy's eyes and the husky sound of his voice when he spoke to him. Harry still had no idea what was going on, but he soon realized that he really didn't care.

As he ran the last thirty yards to the portrait of the Fat Lady, all Harry could think about were those soft pink lips and those talented pale fingers.

It was then that Harry grasped the concept that he wanted Draco Malfoy. Wanted him so badly that it made his chest ache.

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed that (as well as those nummy cookies I gave you!) Don't forget to tell me what you think! More to come soon!**


	4. The Third Night

**THE THIRD NIGHT**

Harry wondered how his life had changed so much in just the span of a few hours. He had gone from completely and totally loathing Draco Malfoy to being in excruciating need for his touch…his caress…his kiss.

Shaking his head, Harry stared up at his ceiling as he was lying in bed. He thought back to the events of that night, wondering how things would be the next morning. Would Malfoy be the prat he seemed to always be during the day? Or would he stick with this sudden change, this sudden transformation he had seemed to go through? Would he remain to be the person he turned into at night? The person who wanted Harry to call him Draco?

Harry vaguely thought back to a rather famous Muggle story: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

A sudden thought occurred to Harry: he had kissed a boy. A real live, endowed boy! He had spent so much time thinking over the fact that it was Draco Malfoy of all people that he had totally neglected the fact that Malfoy was, indeed, a boy. Did this make him gay? He tried to imagine a girl naked, but it just made him want to retch. Then he thought about Malfoy naked…and a tingling sensation started up in his lower region. He shook his head violently. He was _not _gay. This _thing_ between him and Malfoy, whatever it was, was simply a fascination, an interest. How often does your childhood enemy sexually molest you in corridors and dorm rooms? Not very often. No, Harry was not gay. There was Cho…and Ginny…and…and….

He was not gay!

He looked over at the Marauders' Map for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. He watched as the black dot labeled 'Draco Malfoy' paced the Slytherin dorm room. Harry smirked to himself. At least he knew Malfoy was deep in thought about that night as well.

Picking up his wand and muttering the words, "Mischief managed," Harry put away the map and tried to fall asleep. What a day…

HDHDHDHD

Draco traced patterns in the air with his wand, watching in what seemed to be fascination as the blue light streaked from the tip. He was lost in thought. Thinking about Potter, himself, and this person who had taken over him…twice now. Was he possessed? The very idea frightened him. Possession was a very serious thing, even in the Wizarding World. He shook his head, trying to get the thought out of his mind.

Had it been a potion? Maybe he had spilled something or gotten an ingredient wrong? He quickly dismissed this theory as well. Draco never got a potion wrong. Ever. And he was always very meticulous about making sure that a drop never escaped the cauldron or vial. What was this thing that had suddenly come onto him!

_I've always been here, Draco, inside your head_…Draco froze as the voice from earlier once again invaded his mind. Suddenly, Draco found his body lusting after golden skin, dark hair, and emerald green eyes.

"Stop that!" he muttered angrily to the voice, trying to get the images of a naked Harry Potter tied down to his bed _out_ of his mind.

_You cannot deny your innermost desires, Draco. I know what you truly want, what your body craves, what you crave. I know what you need…_

"You're wrong! I don't need Potter!" he screeched. "I'm not a bloody poof!" He cried indignantly, abruptly realizing that in kissing Potter, he had also kissed another boy. Draco never thought to question his sexuality. He had always assumed that girls were just what he was supposed to want, and he went along with it. But even Draco knew, without this voice in his head, that there was an appeal about Potter that he had never found in girls. The rich desire to taste the forbidden fruit…

_Draco, stop denying yourself. Take what you desire…_the voice whispered slyly in his ear.

"What if he pushes me away? What if I can't control the situation?" he understood that the only reason he had managed to corner Potter tonight was because he had taken away his wand. What if next time he wasn't so quick?

_Leave that to me, Draco. I'm here to help you…_the voice did sound like it wanted to help, though Draco couldn't help but notice the glimmer of mischief in it's tone.

"How do I know that I can trust you?" Draco totally disregarded the fact that he was now having an in depth conversation with a voice in his head that was urging him to sexually molest Potter.

_You're a Slytherin. Since when does trust mean anything to you?_

And with that, the voice was, once again, gone.

HDHDHDHD

Harry was extremely nervous as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast. How was Malfoy going to act around him? Was he going to be shy? Bold? Harry had no idea what to expect. So, of course, he did what any conflict avoidant teenager would do: he pretended not to see him.

This however, failed…miserably.

He pretended not to notice how much more attractive Malfoy had become over the last few days. He had filled out some muscle and his face looked less pointy and more…seductive. Harry had also noticed that Malfoy hair had developed a "just been shagged" look. The very sight made Harry's mouth water, as he let his eyes become fixed on the blond, like a magnet to metal, as he watched him pick at his toast disinterestedly. Harry held his breath, waiting for the blond to look up. Waiting in fear to see that all too common sneer and those cold, steely eyes once more.

Malfoy, however, didn't seem to notice the brunette, staying focused on his breakfast. Harry felt his temper rising. How dare he ignore me after last night! Harry was not going to just sit here and be ignored. He shoved back from the table angrily as he stood up.

"Where ya going, mate?" Ron asked as he piled eggs into his mouth.

"Back to the dorm…not hungry…bye." Harry said moodily.

He stalked off, not looked over his shoulder as he left the Great Hall.

Back in his dorm, Harry faced the demon residing in his pants.

"Oh c'mon! Just go away for five seconds!" he yelled at his growing erection. There _was_ anotherway to handle this, and it was better than a cold shower…but could he bring himself to do it? Harry stood himself up straight.

No, he was not that desperate…

Draco Malfoy was not going to be the person who controlled Harry's libido, his need for release. He tried denying himself for a few minutes. He hated Malfoy so much right now. Stupid git and his stupid hair with his stupid bedroom eyes…

Five excruciatingly pleasure filled minutes later, Harry Potter was climaxing into his own hand while thinking about punching Malfoy in the face and shagging him at the same time.

Oh yeah, he had it bad for Malfoy.

HDHDHDHD

Draco groaned as Professor Binns started his lecture. History of Magic. What a ridiculous excuse for a class. Probably thought up by Filch to torture the students. The day had been going by slowly, and here he was, finally in his last class. However, this class just had to be the one that went slower than all the rest. Even slower than double Divinations.

He briefly glanced over at Granger whose hand was scribbling away on her parchment, though it wasn't hard to keep up with Binns' slow, monotonous voice.

Reluctantly, Draco looked over at Potter. For some strange reason, he looked deliciously rumpled, as if he had just gotten out of a good shag. His cheeks were rosy, his eyes were bright, his hair a little messier than usual, and he had this dreamy smug look in his eyes. Almost as if…

Draco spluttered as he imagined Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, Messiah of All Things Magical, wanking off.

He moaned at the visual that popped up into his mind. Potter, stretched out on his bed, hand wrapped around his cock, rubbing in long, even strokes. A look of ecstasy on his face as he rode out the immense feelings of pleasure building up in his stomach, tightening like coil. Draco pictured himself walking up to Harry, getting on the bed with him, taking the Gryffindor's length in his own hand, and finishing him off. He shuddered as he imagined the loud moans and cries of bliss falling from Potter's mouth. '_Oh Draco, god, yes, please more!'_

Draco snapped out of his daydream when a loud THUD hit his desk. He jumped to attention.

"What!" he cried out desperately, trying to gain his composure. Everyone turned to look at him and he heard Blaise sniggering next to him, including Professor Binns. The ghost regarded him with reproachful eyes before continuing his lecture.

Looking at what had caused the loud thump, Draco noticed it was Blaise's textbook.

"What the bloody hell!" he whispered angrily. Blaise tried to speak between fits of poorly suppressed giggles.

"S-sorry….Draco….couldn't….help it….you were….moaning….his name…" Blaise continued to chuckle hysterically, wiping tears from his eyes from laughing so hard. Draco tried to glare at him but the dunderhead just kept on sniggering. Draco tried to pay more attention to Professor Binns after that.

HDHDHDHD

Harry was late getting to supper. And good Lord, he was _hungry_. His stomach rumbled loudly as he sprinted down the hallway, cursing his uncanny ability to always end up in trouble with Snape.

He had attempted to avoid Malfoy by leaving History of Magic as quickly as possible. However, as he was looking over his shoulder to make sure the blond git was far behind, he had collided with Professor Snape. Vials and cauldrons went tumbling everywhere and Snape made him clean up every last one _and _gave him detention for the rest of the week. Great.

Now all he wanted was to eat his dinner and go to sleep. But of course, Fate hated him.

As he was finally approaching the Great Hall, his mind already wandering to what he would pick to eat, a pale hand reached out and pulled him into an empty classroom.

"Gnah!" he cried out, feeling himself tripping backwards. In less than a second, he was pinned up against a wall with Malfoy's hands wrapped around the neck of his robes.

"Malfoy!" Harry yelped, trying to push the other boy away. The blond, however, simply raised an eyebrow, shaking his head.

"No, Potter, not Malfoy…" the Slytherin licked his own pink lips and Harry watched in fascination, the small movement caused a stirring in his groin.

"Draco…" Harry whispered, defeated, recognizing the low seductive voice from the night before. He knew where this was going. He was helpless.

"Much better," the taller boy praised appreciatively, running a hand through the Gryffindor's black hair. Harry felt a strong leg move in between his legs as Draco brought a single finger under his chin, staring into his eyes.

"Good evening, Potter," the blond murmured, before crushing his lips to Harry's.

As the soft yet demanding lips moved against his own, Harry felt himself getting a little hot. Sweat trickled down his back as the fire that was Draco's embrace consumed him. Draco's tongue pushed at Harry's lips, asking for entry, which Harry eagerly gave. He began to pant as long slender fingers worked their way over his body, slipping under his t-shirt and roaming across his hot flesh. He turned to putty at the mercy of Draco's dexterous touches, feeling himself get lost in the gentle caresses mixed with the passionate kisses.

Somehow, Draco had found a way to get under Harry's skin in a way he never had during their previous years of rivalry. Instead of getting Harry all riled up by hurling insult after insult, he now used Harry's libido against him. He made Harry want him, crave him, need him.

This was much more dangerous than any childhood feud could ever be. _Keep your friends close_…Draco licked the soft skin behind Harry's ear and the brunette shivered.

…_and your enemies closer…_

For the third night in a row, Harry left Draco by himself after their spontaneous little rendezvous. The first night, it had been out of confusion and anger. The second, it had been at the request of the young Slytherin. Now, however, Harry left as soon as it was over. As soon as the kisses ceased. As soon as the touches ghosted away. He didn't want to be there when Draco turned back into the git he was. Back into Malfoy. Back into the enemy of his childhood. He might have been in Gryffindor, but he didn't have the strength, or the courage to go through that.

HDHDHDHD

Meanwhile, while Potter was running away, Draco was on the ground, silently screaming in agony, as he felt a freezing cold stinging sensation run through his chest. It felt like he had been splayed open and had ice dumped inside. Panting for air, he tried to call out but his voice was stuck in his throat.

_Shhh, Draco…_the voice in his head soothed._ It will go away soon…soon everything will be how it should…soon you will be right. _

With those words echoing through his head, Draco felt his eyelids slide shut and all consciousness left him.

**A/N: Ohmigod ohmigod! Big reveal coming in the next chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed! I'm so excited! Weeeeeeeeee! I love you all!**

**P.S. Sorry for any grammar mistakes in this. I was so excited about publishing it that I didn't want to take the time to go through and edit!**


	5. Frozen Heart

**FROZEN HEART**

Things were hazy when Draco woke up. After blinking away the fog, he immediately recognized the room he was in: Severus' private chambers. He shifted on the long couch which he had sat on many an afternoon when things were getting stressful or he needed a break. This was like a haven to him. He felt safe here.

"Severus?" Draco called out. No answer, but he did hear a bit of muttering coming from behind the door which led into Snape's office. Although eavesdropping was supposed to be beneath the Malfoy pride, Draco couldn't shake the feeling that the muttering was probably about him. He crept quietly over to the door. Severus' voice sounded angry.

"He's just a boy! You can't expect him to—"

"We can and we shall, Severus," Albus Dumbledore's voice was low and stern. Draco couldn't remember ever hearing the old man's voice sound so serious. McGonagall's voice spoke up as well.

"Until the transformation is complete, we can't allow him to remain near the other students. What if he tries to—"

"He won't!" Severus exclaimed, almost desperately.

"You can't know that!"

"As a matter of fact, Minerva, I can. And I do. He has already chosen." Severus voice sounded uneasy, as if he was giving away precious information, like a spy.

There was a gasp from the other two at his words. Draco heard muffled words but he couldn't understand what they were saying. Suddenly, it was dead silent on the other side of the door.

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked uncertainly.

"Yes, Albus. I'm sure. All the signs are there. Now can't you see why we can't isolate him? It will drive him mad. Especially since the transformation has begun." Draco was so confused about all of this. Transformation? Isolation? He figured he better speak up before a decision was made without his input. He knocked lightly on the door and all conversation ceased.

"Come in Draco," Severus' voice sounded wary. "How are you feeling?" he asked his godson.

"A little lightheaded, but nothing too serious. What happened to me?" he looked directly at Severus, who seemed to know much more than the other two about what was going on.

There was silence, no one was answering him. Draco was getting annoyed. He hated being treated like an unintelligent child. He turned to his godfather.

"Severus? What's happening to me?" he couldn't help the desperation in his voice. He was scared.

"Sit down, Draco." The blond obeyed, choosing the seat closest to the one and only person whom he would trust his life with.

"If I may speak to Mr. Malfoy alone," he gave a pointed look to the other two, who simply nodded and left without a word. As the door shut behind them, Severus cast a silencing charm on the door, so that none of their conversation would be heard. At that moment, Draco let the remains of his cold mask crumble away.

"Severus, what's happening to me?" he pleaded. His godfather regarded him with compassionate eyes.

"Draco…have you ever heard of the Trygg?"

HDHDHDHD

Harry felt odd, anxious. It was like someone was pulling on his arm, urging to leave his form room. However, this was quite impossible seeing as he was the only one in here. He ignored it at first, but it soon became unbearable, like an annoying bug that kept flying in front of his face.

He tried getting up and walking around, thinking he could shake it off, but the tugging kept on. He groaned, getting agitated. His skin started to itch and he felt like he was being smothered by heat. He couldn't breath. There wasn't enough air in here. He was suffocating; his breathing was already getting ragged.

He had to get out of this room. Grabbing his wand, Harry burst out the door and dashed down the stairs. Without a word to Hermione or Ron, who looked quite alarmed at his sudden anxiety, he fled out of the common room and was soon running the empty stone corridors of the school, trying to get outside before he passed out. _Air, I need air!_ His breathing became more and more shallow as he ran harder and his muscles felt like they were on fire. Sweat was rolling down his forehead and his vision got blurry and unfocused. He stopped running for a moment, and slumped against the wall, letting the cool stone sooth him. However, his breathing was still constricted, his palms were clammy, and his muscles were about to give out. He was panting, feeling delirious. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell to the floor with a loud thump before his body let him mercifully pass out.

HDHDHDHD

Draco was silent. He couldn't tell if what his godfather had just told him was really truly. He looked up at the Professor with a skeptical look on his face.

"So what you're saying is," he spoke slowly, trying to make sure that he didn't leave out any details, "…I'm a freak." He hadn't meant to say it, but after everything he had just heard, he sure did feel like a freak of sorts.

"It's actually fairly common in pureblood families, Draco. It's nothing _too _unusual." Draco snorted at this. He couldn't believe the turn things had taken in the last few hours.

Severus had just spent and hour explaining to Draco that he was some sort of magical creature called a Trygg, or at least he had Trygg blood in him. Severus believed that Draco had inherited it from his father, which was odd, seeing as Lucius despised any and all magical creatures.

"I still don't understand this whole mating thing, though," he spoke cautiously, trying to avoid being given too much information. He was curious, sure, but he wasn't really happy to learn about this…condition.

"It's quite simple really. When your Trygg blood matures, your body starts searching for your mate, or _kita dalis_. This person is, essentially, your soul mate, your other half. The one who completes you, makes your heart feel whole and warm. Mating with your _dalis _is essential for the transformation to be complete. If it is not completed before the month is out, your heart will…well, it will freeze over Draco. You will not die…however, there are some…side effects." Severus looked away from Draco, avoiding his eyes. Draco wasn't having any of that.

"What kind of side effects, Severus?"

"Well…your father for example…refused to accept his mate. Once the one-month was over, his heart froze over and all compassion, empathy, and sense of affection were completely swept from his body. He wasn't always the way he is. He used to…well, he used to be rather sweet, actually. A bit proud sometimes, but always with others' well being in his heart. Once his transformation began though, he was horrified at what he had become. He was...disgusted and locked himself in a chamber until the lunar cycle was over. He went into that chamber a scared, horrified boy and came out a hard, steely man. He abandoned his friends, his intended mate, his mentors. All he was concerned with after that was self-preservation and power. Always with the power…" Severus trailed off, his eyes distant, as if he was in a different world. Draco couldn't shake the feeling that there was something that Severus wasn't telling him, but he didn't pry. He tried distracting his godfather from memories that were clearly troubling him.

"How will I know when my body is searching for my…my _kita dalis_?"

"Well, most Trygg's or those with Trygg blood have said that there is a voice of sorts in their head, urging them towards a specific person. It's not very hard for Trygg's to find their mate. Your body knows you better than you do." Severus was flipping through some pages of a book about magical creatures, looking for some more information to tell Draco. The blond haired Slytherin in question wasn't paying attention anymore though. His eyes were wide and he had a look of pure horror on his face.

"A….a voice?" his voice quavered.

"Mhm," Severus replied distractedly, "often referred to as the Voice of Libido. Usually makes itself present in the evenings, when the moon is out…" Draco was panicking. He had a voice in his head. A stupid, gitty voice. A stupid gitty voice who was always talking about Potter. Draco gulped as he realized that his body wasn't searching for his mate. It had already found him.

Severus looked up from the book. "Yes, Draco. It's Potter. He is your mate…" something in his eyes flashed and he jumped up and was in towering over Draco in less than a second, a dangerous look on his face. "Now you listen, Draco Malfoy. I refuse to allow you to turn into the apathetic bastard your father has become. You will not become the same cold distant monster he is." This made Draco furious. How dare Severus try to control him like this!

"For your information, _Professor_," Severus flinched at the formality, "I have no desire to _mate_ with Potter," _Lies…_ "Nor do I care if I become like my father," _Lies…_ "I've always admired his ability to keep a level head," _Lies…_ "And I would like nothing more than to follow in the footsteps he has provided for me," _Lies lies lies! _'Shut up!' Draco silently screamed at the voice who was snaking its way back into his head. Now that he knew what and who this voice was, he was not going to follow its orders like some mind-controlled idiot. He had been stupid to allow himself to listen to it at all.

"I refuse, Professor," Draco used the same cold voice had taught him to use when he needed to keep a level head. "You can tell McGonagall and Dumbledore that they need not separate me from the other students." A part of him cringed at the crestfallen expression on his godfather's face. He wished he could make him happy, but he couldn't mate with Potter. He just couldn't! What would father say? Draco knew exactly what father would say. He would call him weak, pitiful, a disgusting animal. He might even disown him. Draco couldn't take that risk. He would simply shed this monstrous thing like his father had before him, no matter how much pain it caused him.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door and McGonagall burst in, worry etched on her face.

"Severus," her voice was weak, "it's Potter." Draco's heart squeezed but he kept the indifferent mask plastered on his face.

"What's wrong with him?" Severus was already at the older witch's side, looking just as frightened as she did.

"We don't know, yet. But it doesn't look good. Poppy's not sure if he's going to survive. He can barely breath and his heart beat is faint. I knew that if it had anything to do with…Mr. Malfoy's condition, you would know. Come quickly!" Severus was out the door in a flurry of black robes. McGonagall turned to Draco. "You stay here." She instructed, probably thinking that Draco being around Potter would make things worse. Draco simply shrugged, sat himself down in the seat he had been in before, and told himself over and over again that he didn't care if Potter lived or died.

_Lies…._

HDHDHDHD

Harry felt himself slipping away from reality; his heartbeat was slow and weak and there was an agonizing fire raging through his stomach. Madame Pomfrey was fussing about, trying everything she could think of to keep him alive. He tried to convey to her what he needed, but his muscles were dead and his throat was dry, disabling his speech. But he knew what he needed, in his head. _Draco…I need Draco…bring me Draco!_ He tried screaming at her but his lips didn't even twitch. There was a loud commotion as the hospital wing doors flew open and Harry heard the flutter of robes. _Snape…_He thought bitterly. Probably come to finish him off. Harry almost felt grateful. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

Suddenly an idea occurred to him. It was his last chance.

_Professor! _Harry practically screamed in his mind, trying to tap into Snape's highly attuned Legilimency. Harry used what strength he had left to practically shove his thoughts into Snape's mind. _Professor! I need Draco! Please! Bring me to Draco!_ Snape looked stunned at the mental assault he had just received. As he listened in to Harry's thoughts, an expression of comprehension crossed his face.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, before turning on his heel to retreat quickly back to his office.

"Professor Snape, we happen to have a child _dying_ here! How dare you leave him like this!" she fussed. It was the first time Harry had even seen her look genuinely worried. She wasn't used to not knowing how to help people. At least Snape knew. Yes, Snape would go get Draco. Harry's Draco. The boy whom Harry needed. The boy whose very presence would make all this pain disappear. Harry wasn't sure how he knew it, but he was certain that Draco being here would solve his problem. He didn't know why, but didn't stop to question it.

Anything to take this pain away.

Anything to bring his Draco to him.

Harry, however, suddenly felt his stomach give one last angry twist of fire, and felt his heart stop all together. He lay there, stunned, as his breath hitched and his mind slowly shut down.

Then, with a single breath, Harry Potter was no more…

**A/N: OMG! Please don't kill me! There will be another chapter soon! I love you all! Believe me, I do!**


	6. Malfoy Through and Through

**A/N: This is a re-write of the original chapter 6. Thank you so much to **_**allieb23**_** for pointing out the MAJOR flaw in the original chapter! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! I would have been suffering from writer's block for days without you! I owe you!**

**P.S Sorry to those who liked the original chapter, but I couldn't have such an abomination associated with myself. (And anyways, this one is better so =P)**

**P.P.S I know that the "HDHDHDHD" usually signifies a change in viewpoint for my other chapters, however for this chapter, it will simply be used to signify that a certain amount of time has passed. **

**MALFOY THROUGH AND THROUGH**

When Severus burst back through the doors and strode into his quarters, he found Draco sitting in the same chair he had left him in, staring forwards with a dead, empty look in his eyes.

"Draco, you must come at once! He'll die without you!" The melodramatic undertones of the entire situation were not lost on Severus.

"No…" Draco replied, his voice hoarse. "He is already dead…" his words were cold and devoid of any emotion. Not even mourning. He was completely dead, hollow. He felt as if someone had taken out all his vital organs; leaving him to be a living shell.

Severus knew better than to question the validity of Draco's statement. He knew all about Tryggs…probably more than was healthy. It had become an obsession since Lucius had changed. A Trygg knew when his mate was in trouble, hurting, or dead. If Draco said Potter was dead, then Potter was dead.

Without a word, Draco slowly, robotically, stood from the chair, turning to face his godfather. Severus felt like her was staring into the eyes of Misery itself. More heartbreaking than a slaughtered unicorn, and more horrifying than the Dementor's Kiss. Draco regarded him with vacant eyes.

"Draco, I know how hard this must be for you—"

"Do you?" Draco's voice was suddenly like a blade, sharp and dangerous. Though his eyes remained dead, his face contorted with anger. "You can't know how this feels Severus. You can't possibly know." With that, Draco swept past the professor, and exited the room.

Severus let him go; knowing full well that any attempts to stop him would be futile. Draco wasn't just mourning, he was in the deepest state of grief for any living thing, human or creature, to bear. His other half, his _kita dalis_, was gone, dead, and a part of Draco had died with him.

"He can't be gone…" Draco muttered to himself as he walked the desolate corridors of Hogwarts, with no real destination. The air was cold and dank, chilling him; but he made no efforts to warm himself. He was too emotionally numb to care. He let his feet go where they wished, feeling no sense of purpose. No need to be anywhere anymore.

_Draco…_

"Leave me alone," he whispered darkly as the voice once again invaded his mind.

_Draco, I can help you._

"NO!" the blond screeched. "Go away! This is all your fault! I hate you! Potter's dead, what more damage could you possibly do! Leave me alone!" With that, he began to run as fast as he could. Away from the voice, away from himself, away from his grief. He let his body carry him at breakneck speed across the hard stone.

He felt that if he were to run any faster, he would lift off the ground. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. He ran and ran; through corridors, past paintings, up staircases, into passages whose exit he didn't know. He had to get away. Had to escape. As he ascended one more flight of stairs, he came to a door. Without a thought, he shoved it open.

He was on the top of the Astronomy Tower, and the night air was freezing him to the bone. But he simply didn't care. It was nothing compared to the cold he felt in his heart.

Reality slowly seemed to come back to him as he realized what he was planning to do in the back of his mind. He wanted to jump. He wanted to die. He could not live in a world without Harry Potter. Potter was essential to Draco's existence, whether it be as lover or as enemy. While Draco found that he honestly preferred the former, he felt that Potter hating him was better than no Potter at all. For the first time, Draco understood how deeply he needed the Gryffindor in his life. But now it was too late. Far too late.

As Draco approached the edge of the tower, he felt the voice in his head trying to resurface, trying to stop him. He ignored it as he felt the lip of the stones underneath his toes.

Looking down, he tried to imagine himself, sprawled on the ground, blood pouring from his body, all his pain just coming to an abrupt end. It was just one jump away. He wanted to jump with every fiber of his being. But his feet refused to move. Wouldn't budge. He figured it was his sense of self-preservation kicking into high gear, his subconscious refusing to let him take that final leap. He let out a frustrated groan, the ache in his heart slowly making itself present as everything set in. Potter was really gone. There was no bringing him back.

Draco would never again look into those emerald eyes and see them looking back with a fiery passion. He would never again feel the warmth of the Gryffindor's touch, caressing his skin as he floated in heavenly bliss. Never again feel the softness of his lips moving against his own as they roughly embraced in a dark alcove.

He thought back to how things were, just a few days ago. Before he had blacked out and cornered Potter in the corridor. Before the night in his dorm room, where they had their first kiss. Before all this Trygg nonsense became such a huge part of his life. When Potter still hated him. As much as the thought pained him, Draco internally confirmed that indeed, he would have given anything to be throwing petty insults back and forth with the Gryffindor, rather than standing here, ready to jump off a tower, because that very same Gryffindor, was gone. Dead.

"Dead…Harry Potter is dead," the words sounded foreign and strange on his tongue; it felt too surreal, too abstract to be true. But they are, he told himself. And with that, he collapsed onto the ground of the tower feeling his knees hit the hard stone. Loud sobs overtook him as he shook with uncontrollable weeping. He cried and cried, trying to get all the grief out of him; but the harder he cried, the heavier the anguish settled over him, like a blanket that was gradually seeping into his skin. He cried until there were no more tears left, and still emitted loud, dry sobs. His head turned up to the sky and he suddenly felt miniscule.

"Why!" he shrieked to the heavens. "Why did you take him from me!" He didn't know whom he was screaming at. He certainly didn't believe in God. He had stopped believing in God long ago. "What have I done to deserve this!" Of course, no one answered him. His heart felt like a lump of ice in his chest, barely beating, and his body felt like an empty shell. How could he live like this? Was this how his father felt? All the time? Was he doomed to live as his father had? Cold, unfeeling, not caring about anyone around him?

Looking over to the edge of the tower once more, Draco urged his body to stand and walk right off. However, he remained kneeling, muscles refusing to move anywhere closer to certain death. He was trapped into living. He had no choice. With or without Potter, he would be forced to keep on living.

HDHDHDHD

Draco looked around the Great Hall at breakfast the next morning, trying to figure out if people knew of Potter's death yet. He paid special attention to Granger and Weasley. They didn't look mournful, just worried, probably wondering where their friend was. Draco's eyes flitted to the Head Table.

McGonagall was absent, her seat empty and golden plate bare. Dumbledore, however, was there, looking solemn, with his eyes closed and head bent, deep in thought. Was he not going to say anything? Not even tell Weasley and Granger that their friend was dead? What was the old man playing at?

The day passed by in a blur. Draco noticed no one, eyes glazed over as teachers lectured and demonstrated. He performed the tasks required of him, though only putting forth minimum effort. What was the point anyway? He didn't need to impress anyone anymore. Didn't need to show off his superior talent. He was drowning in his own despair, his grief replacing any desire to exceed in, well, anything.

For the hundredth time that day, he passed by the corridor that would take him to the hospital wing. As he walked by, his skin started to itch and his heartbeat started to pick up speed. Potter was still there; he just knew it. But he couldn't bring himself to walk down the long corridor and step through those doors. Seeing Potter, laying on the hospital bed, with no signs of life about him, was more than he could handle. He was suicidal, not a masochist.

Instead of going to the Great Hall for dinner, Draco once again ascended the staircase to the Astronomy Tower. His feet dragged and hit each stone with a heavy thud. As he approached the door, he took a deep breath, then without another thought, shoved it open.

Once again, he walked to the edge of the tower, attempting to act casual, as if he was just observing the stars. He was trying to trick his body into letting him jump. Maybe if he could make himself slip—

_Draco…don't_

Draco smirked without humor. "Hello, again." He muttered, his voice barely audible.

_Draco, listen to me—_

"No. Just leave me alone."

_I'm afraid I can't do that…_

Draco sighed. Of course not.

Suddenly behind him, the door burst open. He turned to see a very proud looking Severus.

"What do you want?" he spat, not forgetting the night before.

"Draco, come with me."

"No. I want to stay here."

"Draco, you will want to here what I have to say…It's….It's about Potter." Draco's ears perked up at the name. His interest was piqued.

"…I'm listening."

"It would be easier to explain if you would come with me."

_Listen to him, Draco. He might be able to help…_

'No one can help me anymore.'

However, he wanted to hear more, so he followed Severus back inside, his mind circling obsessively around thoughts of Harry Potter.

HDHDHDHD

Draco looked around curiously as he entered Snape's office. The place was absolutely covered with open books. Some pages had been ripped out and placed side-by-side with others. Draco raised an eyebrow at the mess in the professor's office. Severus didn't seem to notice, however, as he was currently skimming over one page in particular. Draco looked around for a place to sit down, but every surface was covered in books and parchment.

Looking satisfied with what he read, Severus handed over the page he had been looking over.

"Read it." He said eagerly.

Draco raised his eyebrow once more before turning his eyes to the text in his hands.

_While extensive research has been done to learn more about the mating habits of the Tryggs, much of their power and abilities still remain quite mysterious. However, Professor W. Q. Linnerspear, an expert in the study of Tryggs, made a startling breakthrough. _

_Tryggs, known for their loyalty and devotion to their mates, or _kita dalis_, have immense magical power when it comes to the protection and welfare of their partner. Varying from situation to situation, Tryggs have the ability to resurrect their dead mate. While not every Trygg possesses this power, it is definitely a trait of the species, however rare it may be. _

Draco looked up.

"That's it?" he asked, questioning the validity of Linnerspear's "discovery". "Sounds ridiculous to me. Resurrection is impossible, even with magic." He snorted disgustedly as he tossed the page amongst the several others lying across the floor. This is what Severus had dragged him here for? A glimmer of hope that wasn't even real?

"That's what I thought, as well," Severus spoke, interrupting Draco's thoughts, "but it turns out that there have been recorded legitimate occurrences of this very sort. Granted, it's a fairly rare gift, but I think that it's at least worth a try. Come to Potter's bed, trying to resurrect him. You could save him Draco!" Severus was getting very worked up, and didn't even notice when Draco started chuckling darkly.

"You just don't get it, do you Severus?" his godfather looked at him questioningly. Draco continued, "I don't _want_ to save him." _Lies. _Severus' mouth hung open in shock. He quickly recovered himself, though, and eyed Draco suspiciously.

"Liar" Severus' opinion reflected that of the voice in Draco's head. He ignored them both.

"If he lives, I become vulnerable. I become weak. I lose the ability to choose my life. I am stuck feeling infatuated with the boy for as long as I live. However, without him in my life, I am free to do whatever I please. He would just be a complication. I have enough complications as it is," he shrugged dismissively, "Father would be proud," he added, trying to convince himself more than Severus.

Those last four words seemed to be the last straw for the professor. His eyes darkened, his face twisted in fury, even one of the vials on his desk shattered. Draco was a bit startled. A grown wizard, a teacher at Hogwarts, Dumbledore's trusted spy, was losing control of his magic? Draco realized that he had hit a nerve, and hit it hard.

"You foolish boy," Severus' voice was like ice. "Do you have any idea what you are saying? You are willing to let your mate die because you don't want a complication in your life? Have you no morality? Or have you already sunken as low as your pitiful father?" that stung a bit, but not much. Draco was used to people insulting his father.

"I am only thinking clearly, Severus. I had a life before this Trygg thing came along. I was perfectly happy—" _Lies_ "—and everything just got worse when this stupid gene presented itself. Well I won't have any of that," even as he spoke them, Draco knew himself to be a liar. But it was for the best…right?

Draco had made this decision after his first night on the astronomy tower. Even if he were to save Harry, even if they were to mate, their life together would be filled with unyielding worry and terror. What if Draco's father found out? What if Voldemort found out? Draco shuddered at the thought. He couldn't let Potter live like that, in a constant state of fear. The safest thing was for him to be dead.

"You are a Malfoy through and through," Severus said simply, turning away from the younger Slytherin. For some reason, this offended Draco, but he didn't think on it too much. He had made his decision, and a few choice words from Severus were not going to change that. He turned to leave, before he heard Severus mutter one last thing.

"Just once, I wish you wouldn't try to be like your father."

Draco's steps faltered a bit, but he didn't turn back as he walked out the door.

HDHDHDHD

"_Draco, please, don't let me die! Draco it hurts! Draco!" _

Draco's eyes snapped open, the sound of Potter's pleas echoing in his head. His body was covered in a layer of sweat and his hands were shaking. Drawing in a deep breath, Draco sat up in bed, rubbing his forehead. It had been two days since Severus had shown him that stupid page of text. He had thoroughly avoided the professor, and they only exchanged curt, civil words and even then, only when it was completely necessary. Draco had lost his only ally in this whole fiasco. Now he was left standing alone.

Looking out the window, Draco saw that it was still quite dark outside. Morning would not come for another few hours. His head throbbed as the dream came back to him. Those horrible cries of pain, of pleading. Draco had been having this same dream since the incident with Severus, and he couldn't get it out of his head that Potter was trying to communicate with him. Part of Draco snorted at this, but another part couldn't deny that something was definitely up.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Draco stretched, knowing he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. After looking out the window for a few more moments, Draco came to his decision. He knew what he had to do. He silently slid on a t-shirt and grabbed his wand, not wanting to wake up his dorm mates. As he crept out of the room, his heart began to quicken its pace, in anticipation for what he was about to do.

The fire in the common room was completely out and Draco, for the first time since Potter had died, felt cold. His skin was covered in gooseflesh as his bare feet stepped along the icy stone floor. With one last look over his shoulder, Draco shoved open the portrait, and stepped out into the corridor.

Trying to ignore the freezing night air, Draco began walking at a quick pace. He had one destination on his mind and he wanted to get there quickly before he could turn around and change his mind.

As he passed the sleeping portraits, Draco began shaking. His anxiety was reaching a new high and he could hear his own heart beat pounding loudly in his ears.

_Draco…_

"When this is all over, please don't say 'I told you so'," Draco muttered before arriving at the door of his destination.

Without another thought, Draco shoved it open and strode into the hospital wing, leaving all fears behind him.

"Alright Linnerspear," he said as he spotted the only occupied bed in the wing, "let's see if you knew what you were talking about."

**A/N: Since this chapter took so much time, I decided to make it nice and long. I'm sorry about the cliffhanger though (again) but I love watching you guys squirm (MWAHAHHAHA). Again, thank you allieb23! You saved my writing =P I like this chapter a LOT better. **


	7. True Torture

**TRUE TORTURE**

It was worse than Draco thought it would be. Seeing Potter, lying there, no signs life at all. Draco's heart cracked even more at the sight, but he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He had a job to do.

"Good evening, Potter…" he murmured, crouching down so his gaze was level with Potter's face. He was appalled at how pale Potter's skin had become. He was used to bronzed, warm flesh; not this white, cold exterior. Draco was scared to touch the boy, thinking it would send him over the edge, but he had to. He just had to. Taking a deep breath, Draco tried to relax his mind.

"Okay, do your thing." He mumbled.

_As you wish…_

Draco felt the now familiar sensation of having his body taken over, sitting back to watch with fascination and fear at what was about to happen. What if he couldn't do it? What if his powers weren't strong enough?

'And remember,' he spoke silently, 'the second it's done, you give me my body back.'

_Draco, I must say, I highly object to what you're planning to—_

'That's too bad. You said you wanted to help me; if that's the case then you need to just do what I say.'

…_As you wish_

Draco watched as he lifted his hand, and placed it on Potter's chest, right above his heart. Potter's flesh had hardened, feeling much more like a doll than a human. Draco panicked on the inside, realizing how much you could miss someone's heartbeat.

It didn't feel right, to have his hand there, and not feeling the steady 'thuh-thump" of a healthy, living heart. Draco shivered, his anxiety rising. Sweat began to form on his forehead, and his entire body was trembling. His hand pushed down on Potter's chest, hard. He waited. Suddenly, he felt an electric shock travel down his arm to his hand, and Potter's body abruptly convulsed. Draco's hopes rose, thinking the boy was alive again, only to watch with disappointment as the body flopped back down against the mattress lifelessly.

Once again, his hand pushed down, the electric shock travelled down his arm, Potter's body convulsed. Still nothing.

He did it again.

And again.  
And again.

…And again.

Nothing.

Just as his hand reached forward to try it again, Draco spoke up.

'Stop.' He commanded. His hand froze. 'Just…stop. It's no use.'

…_very well then. _

Draco's muscles came back to him, and he slumped to the floor next to the hospital bed. Pulling his knees up to his chest, Draco felt the tears running down his cheeks, and his breathing shallow and quivering. It had been his last hope. Now that was gone as well.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. So this was it then. Potter was gone for good. Draco had let himself be fooled into thinking that maybe he could bring him back, maybe he was strong enough. But Draco had been completely and utterly wrong. He was weak. Weak like his father…his father…

Suddenly, Draco felt an anger run through his body. It stretched all the way from his fingertips to the soles of his feet.

Draco was young, yes. Draco was stupid, sometimes. Draco was scared, maybe. But Draco Malfoy was _not _weak. Standing up furiously, he whirled around, back to Potter's lifeless form.

"You will not die on me!" he screeched wildly, placing his hand back onto the boy's chest. He pushed harder than he had previously, focusing all his energy into it. He felt the electric shock, more powerful than before, travel down into Potter's body.

Without even checking for signs of life, he did it again.

"You will not leave me alone in this bloody world!" Another shock.

"You. Will. Not. Die!" He threw his entire being into the next one.

_Draco stop! _

Draco was about to push down again when he felt something.

Thuh…

Thu-thump….

Thu-thump….

Thu-thump….

Potter's heart was beating.

Draco quickly pulled his hand away, before another shock travelled down, and watched, speechless. Potter's chest slowly began to rise and fall with breathing.

Merlin, he was alive! Draco had brought him back! He had saved him. Draco should be elated.

But he wasn't.

He was terrified. Terrified for Potter's just recently saved life.

That's when all the thoughts from before invaded his mind again. Father. Voldemort. He had no doubt that if either of them ever learned that his mate was the famous Harry Potter, he would be made to do things. Terrible things. Things that would only hurt Potter in the long run.

"Draco…" he heard his name escape Potter's lips and he froze, thinking that the young boy had woken up. However, he soon realized that Potter was simply talking in his sleep, for the Gryffindor had not yet opened his eyes. Quietly, Draco seated himself in the chair next to Potter's bed, watching him slumber. Tomorrow was Sunday. He could afford to stay here, at least until Madame Pomfrey came. Then he would go. For good. He refused to risk Potter's life again.

HDHDHDHD

Harry was very confused when he felt himself breathing. He was fairly certain that he had died. Were it not for the shock of him being alive, Harry would have felt a little bothered. Was it even possible for him to die?

Hearing a stir next to him, he opened his heavy eyes, blinking away the fog. It was very difficult and took much of his energy, but Harry managed to turn his head to look in the direction of where the noise had come from. His heart soared when he saw Draco Malfoy sitting in the chair next to his bed. The Slytherin's head was tilted back, and his eyes were closed. Must be sleeping, Harry thought to himself. He took this opportunity to study Draco's face. The way it softened when the other boy was asleep, his features becoming almost childlike. Harry felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch the soft-looking skin at the nape of Draco's neck. Harry let out a little whimper of longing.

At the noise, Draco's eyes cracked open, and Harry made sure his own eyes were bright and open, to try and surprise the young Slytherin.

It wasn't long before the blond's steady gaze settled on the bed-ridden Gryffindor.

"Hey…" Harry said shyly. He was met with an expressionless stare.

"You're awake…" Draco stated flatly. Harry felt a little taken aback by the blond's empty voice. What was wrong with him? Wasn't he happy?

"Um yeah…thanks to you…" Harry lifted his hand to touch Draco's, but the blond pulled away, keeping his vacant appearance.

"I did nothing. You were in a coma. It didn't have anything to do with me." His vacant tone stung Harry a bit.

"B-but…I was dead. I stopped breathing! Snape…he knew that I needed you! I told him!" Harry was panicking now, was this Draco he was talking to or Malfoy? He couldn't tell. It seemed to be someone completely different. Someone much less like the young Slytherin he had known before and much more like…Lucius.

"Stop acting so childish. Needing someone does not make you lose consciousness. You're being ridiculous," Harry made to speak, but Draco interrupted him. "I will go tell Madame Pomfrey that you have woken up." He left before Harry could utter a single word. The Gryffindor wrapped the blankets around him tighter, reacting to the chill of Draco's sudden indifference. What had happened?

A few moments later, Madame Pomfrey was rushing in, muttering about a miracle and certain death. As she was checking over Harry, the hospital wing door burst open and Dumbledore entered, followed by a cautiously optimistic Professor McGonagall. However, none of these people were the ones Harry needed to see. He searched the entire room for Draco's familiar head of blond hair, but he was nowhere to be found.

Little did he know, Draco was right outside the door, keeping him alive.

HDHDHDHD

Draco knew he couldn't leave Potter's proximity while the boy was still in such a fragile state, or else he would risk the Gryffindor returning to his previous condition. But he had to get in touch with Severus as soon as he possibly could. He strategically placed himself right in front of the entrance to the hospital wing, awaiting the Professor's arrival.

His heart still stung with what he had forced himself to say to Potter. It was all such a big batch of lies, but he didn't know what he was supposed to do. If his plan was going to work, then he couldn't risk allowing even a moment of intimacy, or else everything would go to shambles.

It seemed like he had waited hours before he heard the familiar, impressive sound of billowing robes; and sure enough, moments later, Severus was turning the corner, only to come face-to-face with his own godson, who looked up at him with such desperation that he couldn't help but almost immediately forgive the boy's misconduct from before. Severus knew that he was the only one who would help Draco at this point, and young Malfoy heir was making it very clear that he needed that aid.

"What is it Draco?"

"Potter…he's awake." Draco mumbled helplessly, as if this would explain everything.

"Yes, I know. I've come to check on him. Did…did you do what I think you did?" His godson solemnly nodded his head. "You do not look as high-spirited as I thought you would have."

"I can't be with him Severus." At the angry look on his godfather's face, Draco hurried to continue. "It's not what you think Severus. I…I care for him," he was careful not to admit too deeply to his feelings, "but…I can't protect him. Not from Father, not from the Dark Lord. Not from myself. I don't even want to think about what they would make me do if they found out—" he was cut off by his own sobs, choking his words off in his throat. Severus' expression softened and he looked on pityingly as he watched the young boy crumple. He had to admit, Draco was right. He was the son of Lucius Malfoy, one of the closest followers of Lord Voldemort. The situation put Potter in far too much danger.

"Perhaps Potter would agree to—"

"No!" the young blond shrieked angrily, "You know him, Severus. Always so self-assured. He doesn't view the Dark Lord as a threat. Or at least, not much of one. He would never agree to something that only protects _him_." Draco looked so crestfallen, so broken at his own words, and how much truth lay within them.

Potter was extremely confident in his abilities, as modest as he tried to be. He didn't feel the need to act for his own protection. He would much rather be off doing heroic things and saving others. His sense of self-preservation was extremely off balance.

"You aren't going to let him die again from the separation…" Severus' voice faded off as Draco's eyes suddenly hardened. That's when Severus realized…Draco knew. He knew about the potion.

"No Severus, there is a way. And you know there is. And you know how to brew it." His voice was suddenly demanding, though he sounded even more desperate than he had before.

"It would be…difficult to make in the amount of time given, Draco. The ingredients—"

"Hogwarts has almost every ingredient for you right in your storage closet! Do not insult my intelligence, Severus. I know you have the capability, the resources. Hell, you could probably do it with your eyes closed. But you just don't want to give up on this _stupid _concept of love. You haven't wanted to give up on it ever since my father refused to mate with you!"

The last statement echoed off the walls and was met with total silence from the Potions Professor.

"How did you know—"

"Oh please, it's written all over your face. Every time you talk about him. It's revolting!" Draco spat, making Severus shrink into himself, something quite uncharacteristic for him. But he couldn't help it. Draco had him pegged and he knew it.

"Okay," he muttered quietly, looking into his godson's eyes. "I'll do it." Draco nodded his head, as if having expected no less. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and, with his chest out and head turned slightly up, stormed back into the hospital wing. Severus raised an eyebrow at the dramatic exit. The boy had learned well.

HDHDHDHD

Harry didn't trust to use his voice as Draco strutted back into the hospital wing. He watched in rapt fascination as the object of his obsession neared his bed. Ignoring the hands that were probing his muscles and the worried eyes of Dumbledore and McGonagall, Harry focused all his attention on the glorious blond. He wanted to kick himself, though. All that babble about needing Draco and Draco being the reason he had temporarily died…and, he suspected, the reason why he was now alive. It was all so confusing, but Harry had learned not to be baffled by magic anymore. If you started trying to understand it, you would either end up knee deep in books like Hermione or just be completely deranged.

As Draco approached the bed and sat down in the chair he had previously been in, Harry felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. He had to admit, despite Draco's cold and apathetic demeanor, Harry did feel much more…sane when the Slytherin was close to him. Absentmindedly, Harry reached out a hand to grasp at Draco's pale, slender fingers. The blond allowed it, but showed minimal interest in the affectionate act, and seemed to be much more captivated by one of the stones in the wall. Harry sighed; at least Draco hadn't pulled away.

Harry spent the rest of the day in bed, holding on tightly to Draco's hand. The blond didn't seem particularly entertained, but he didn't seem to have anywhere else to be. Harry had told him countless times that Draco could leave if he wanted to, but the blond just shrugged and stared out the window. Harry felt a bit deflated. He longed to see Draco's mischievous smile again; even his annoyingly smug face would do. But it was just blank and cold, much like the windowpanes he was fixated on. It was around lunchtime when Harry once again suggested that Draco leave and go do something else for a little while.

"It's not like I'll go into a coma if you just leave for a few hours. I'm sure you have better things to do." As much as Harry didn't want Draco to be bored here, his heart clenched at the thought of Draco having something better to do than spend time with him.

"Look, Potter," Harry cringed at the use of his last name, "I was instructed by Dumbledore and Severus to stay here. I'm not going to run off and risk getting in trouble." Draco shifted in his seat, as if he was feeling uncomfortable.

"Come closer…" Harry whispered almost inaudibly. But Draco had heard him and scooted the chair closer, causing Harry to sigh in contentment. The young Gryffindor tightened his death grip on Draco's hand, fearing that if he let go, the Slytherin would simply float away. Draco ignored the gesture and let out an agitated sigh.

"I hope they fix whatever it is that's wrong with you." He said simply. That hurt a bit, but Harry shook it off and Draco didn't say anything more on the matter.

As the hours continued on, Harry found himself staring at Draco shamelessly.

His eyes travelled over the defined muscles in his arms and felt his mouth water. How badly he wished he could just feel those arms around him, holding him tightly. His eyes continued on as he observed the very tempting pale neck and the smooth skin on the Slytherin's jaw and cheeks. Finally, Harry's gaze settled on the two silver orbs that were at the moment very far off and distant. The blond had the most beautiful eyes. They were like pools of mercury, swirling in a constant motion around the dark pupil. Draco might have been keeping a straight face all day, but his eyes had given him away several times. Harry saw how the Slytherin's eyes softened whenever he looked at the brunette, and how they hardened whenever Harry suggested that Draco take a break and go do other things. They seemed to glaze over whenever Harry traced his thumb over the back of his hand, and flared up with passionate fire whenever Harry scooted his body closer. The Gryffindor knew that Draco had some sort of feelings for him, and that he was trying to hide him. The thing that he _couldn't_ figure out, however, was why.

HDHDHDHD

Draco had never been under the Cruciatus curse before, but he felt that if he had, it would feel something like this.

It could not be denied that having to keep himself calm and collected while Potter was practically snuggling up with his hand was, in itself, pure torture. How he wished he could stroke the golden skin on the boy's cheek, or brush back the dark hair whenever it got in his face. He wanted to undress the boy with his eyes, but he knew that if he did, all control would be lost. It was bad enough that the voice in his head had been scolding him constantly throughout the day.

However, as the hours progressed, the voice seemed to have decided to ignore Draco, as if trying to give him the cold shoulder. Draco rolled his eyes at his split personality. He truly was going mad.

He had to admit, he felt a bit guilty about keeping Potter in the dark about everything. But judging from how the Gryffindor was audaciously sighing and cooing and snuggling up to Draco's hand, telling the boy was probably the worst thing he could do, at least, if he wanted his plan to work.

Draco snapped out of his reverie by small moans and whimpers coming from the smaller boy. As Draco looked over to the slender body, he felt his heart lurch in his chest.

Potter had splayed himself out on the bed, clearly over heated by the many layers of blankets. In all his tossing and turning in bed throughout the day, his shirt had ridden up, exposing the golden skin on his stomach, as well as a small trail of hair that disappeared enticingly underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Draco noticed that the pants, too, were a bit tousled, and half of the waistband had slipped down off of Potter's hip, which gave Draco a view of the younger boy's hip bone and a little more hair. Potter's face was flushed and his lips were murmuring little words as he dreamt. Draco couldn't be sure, but he was almost certain that there was a small smirk on Potter's face, which indicated that he was very much enjoying whatever it was that he was doing in his dream. As Draco's eyes scanned down Potter's body once more, he noticed, with a groan, that yes, Potter was enjoying it _very_ much.

"Holy hell," Draco moaned, observing the brunette's slender sleeping form. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out.

"Mmm, Draco…" Potter mumbled in his sleep. Draco felt his cock twitch at the longing in his voice. "Oh yeah, Draco right there, harder, yes!" The Gryffindor was writhing on the bed and if Draco didn't know any better, he'd have sworn that it was all for show, all to just make him practically fall out of his chair as he tried to keep his hands to himself.

If it had stopped at that, then Draco would have kept his hands to himself, Potter would have remained asleep, and Draco would just be waiting for Severus to finish the potion. But no, things could never be that simple could they?

Just as Draco thought he might be able to handle himself, Potter's eyes fluttered, his lips parted, and he thrust his hips up in little jerking motions, whimpering with need. It sent Draco over the edge.

He was on top of Potter in less than a second, crushing his lips against the other boy's. Potter's eyes flew open as he let out a gasp, but didn't take long to respond to Draco's eager lips. Potter's arms circled around Draco's neck as the young blond pressed his tongue against Potter's lips, demanding entry. Potter obliged and their tongues met with new enthusiasm. Draco's slender fingers circled the skin on the brunette's cheek, reveling in the feel of the soft golden flesh. Bending his head down, he bit the skin right above the other boy's collar bone, causing him to buck his hips up again, his erection brushing against Draco's. The blond let out a startled gasp, and started rubbing the hips against the whimpering brunette. Bringing his lips close to Potter's ear, Draco whispered the words he'd been longing to say ever since Potter had woken up.

"Good evening, Potter," the young boy shuddered underneath Draco's strong grip, letting out a moan of ecstasy. Not wasting any time, Draco hurriedly pulled down the waistband of Potter's sweatpants, revealing a very hard and very delicious looking erection. With a quick glance in the young Gryffindor's eyes, Draco brought his tongue down against the head, licking experimentally. Potter let out a loud moan and bucked, trying to get more into Draco's mouth. He'd be damned if he didn't oblige.

However, just as he was about to bring his lips down over the beautiful cock, Draco felt a strange sensation, as if someone was slowly wrapping a string around him, tying him to Potter. Instinct told him exactly what it was: the mating ritual.

'Oh no,'

Without another thought, Draco jumped off the bed, stumbled on the stone floor, and came crashing down on his side. He was gasping for air as he lay on the ground, his erection pressing against his pants, as if in objection. That was too close. Way too close.

Trying not to look at Potter, Draco hurriedly stood up grabbed his chair, and dragged it a good few meters away from the bed, before plopping back down on it. He avoided the Gryffindor's confused and burning gaze as he mumbled angrily, "Just stay over there." Potter seemed to understand and turned over, facing away from the flushed Slytherin.

Try as Draco might, he couldn't help but hear the quiet sobs coming from the bed.

**A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! R N R! I love you muchilies!**


	8. Final Decision

**FINAL DECISION**

Draco had managed to avoid touching Potter for the remainder of the day. It had been difficult and even slightly painful at times, but he managed to keep his will strong. It was almost 10 o'clock at night and Draco desperately wanted to get some sleep. However, as he made to leave the infirmary, things started to get a bit dicey, further complicating the already bizarre situation.

Every time he attempted to move more than ten or so meters from the bed, Potter would start shaking, a sweat breaking out across his forehead. His breathing would become shallow, and his hands would start twitching uncontrollably. Not wanting to see what would happen if he tried to move even farther, Draco quickly retreated back to the hospital bed and grasped the young boy's hand, waiting until Potter calmed down a bit. It was one thing to get sick from being away from each other for a certain period of time, but not being able to leave at all? This whole Trygg thing honestly wasn't winning points with Draco today.

After Potter had relaxed considerably, Draco decided to try and give it one more go. His heart squeezed at the abandoned-sounding whimpers that came from the Gryffindor's mouth as Draco pulled his hand away from the young brunette's.

Clenching his teeth, the determined blond tried one more time, managing to get almost all the way to the door, when he heard those heartbreaking words that completely shattered his resolve.

"Draco, please, don't let me die! Draco, it hurts! Draco!" The Slytherin in question abruptly stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. Those were the very words that had kept coming up in his dreams. Without a second thought, Draco rushed back to the young boy's side, taking his hand once again and brushing the ebony locks away from his sweating face.

"Shhh, it's okay," Draco soothed, "I'm not going to let you die." The promise hung in the air as Potter's breathing went back to normal and the shaking eventually stopped. Those oh-so bright green eyes stared back at Draco with painful longing. The Slytherin knew what Potter wanted. What he craved. It was the same thing Draco was craving himself, loathe as he was to admit it. Despite his decision to get Potter away from him and safe as soon as possible, the young blond decided that he did not want to spend his last night with his mate curled up in a chair. Oh what the hell? It was one night. The Slytherin sighed as he came to a decision.

"Alright, move over, Potter." The smaller boy's eyes instantly lit up with joy as he eagerly obliged, making room for the tall Slytherin. Kicking off his shoes, Draco climbed into the cool sheets and his heart melted when Potter cuddled up to him, purring like a little kitten. He really was quite and adorable little prat, Draco thought fondly. He stiffened however, when Potter's legs curled around his own, and he felt the young boy's erection pressing against his thigh. Longing washed over him as he cautiously brought his arms around the Gryffindor. However, soon enough, Draco forced his mind back to the still-present dangers that faced them and the painful image of Potter being hurt or killed was enough to keep Draco's libido at bay for the remainder of the night.

HDHDHDHD

Harry woke to an extremely welcome and pleasant warmth radiating from his right side. It filled him up from his head down to his toes and he snuggled deeper into it addictively, inhaling the glorious scent of the soft skin. This was absolute heaven. He let out what sounded partially like a sigh of contentment and partially a growl of desire.

Suddenly, the arms around Harry pulled him even closer, and warm lips sleepily pressed against the top of his head with a mumbled "Mmm, Harry."

Harry's heart soared at the sound of those words as he cuddled even closer and whispered back, "Draco…"

The body next to him stiffened and Harry froze. _Uh oh._ Had he done something wrong…again? There was silence as both boys waited for the other to do something. When neither of them did, Harry cautiously pulled his arms away, not wanting to upset Draco again like he had last night. However, to his surprise, Draco simply tightened his hold and spoke in a much different, much deeper voice, "Potter…" It made Harry tingle on the inside and he felt very much like a deer under the paws of a tiger. Draco's voice sounded…well..._hungry_.

"Oh…fuck it." Draco's voice was resigned yet viciously determined at the same time. As if he had just lost a battle, but was dead set on confronting his subjugator.

"D-Draco?" Harry was feeling more than a tad nervous, now. What was he supposed to do? Stay still? Pull away? Either one, he realized, could end badly. He tried the latter, but the strong arms just tightened even more. He held his breath, waiting patiently.

"I need you, Potter. You're not getting away from me," the Slytherin's voice was dripping with lust and Harry's heart was racing in response to those words. It excited yet terrified him at the same time. Was Draco being serious? Was he just playing with his head? No, Harry decided. No one, not even Draco Malfoy, could fake the pure lust he had heard in that voice.

"Um…" was Harry's eloquent reply.

With a sharp growl, Draco was on top of him again, just like last night. Only this time, there was nothing sweet about what he was doing or the way he was touching Harry. It was purely animal.

It turned him on…a lot.

"Draco…" Harry's hoarse voice whispered huskily as the blond molested his neck with his full pouty lips.

"Shut it…" Draco snarled. Harry quickly obeyed, the commands just arousing him even more, but he could not help the small whimpers and moans of pleasure that escaped his lips as the taller boy rubbed his pelvis against his own. Harry tried to push himself up off the bed, attempting to thrust up desperately, practically begging for contact. Draco growled again, bringing a hand onto Harry's chest and pushing him back into the mattress with such force and dominance that it sent an electric shock through Harry's body. An electric shock that, now that he thought about it, felt vaguely familiar. It turned him on like hell and Harry groaned as he felt his erection straining against the confines of his underwear and clothing.

Looking up into those mercury colored eyes, Harry felt like he was falling into them, and struggled against Draco's slender, yet strong hand. The Slytherin smirked down at him, and Harry watched in wonder, as the blond slowly became himself again.

"Need something, Potter?" there was no denying the hint of satisfaction in his voice. His smirk grew and he quirked up a perfect eyebrow, amused at what he was able to do to the young Gryffindor.

"Ngh…Draco," Harry's pants were jagged and heavy like a man dying from thirst, "Need…you…touch…me….please!" Tossing his head from side to side violently, Harry began moaning again. This was agony. Pure excruciating torture.

"Are you sure, Potter? Wouldn't want to overwhelm you—" Draco was cut off as his hand was shoved away and greedy lips took hold of his. Harry slid his fingers in the soft corn silk locks that Draco prided himself on so much and possessively kissed the other boy, making sure he left a few punishing bites behind. After a few moments, Harry roughly pulled away, his green eyes sparking dangerously. Draco felt himself drool a bit.

"Fuck. Overwhelming. Me." Harry hissed vehemently, before rolling Draco over so their positions were switched. Draco froze as he realized that he had now been bloody manhandled into a submissive position. It was Harry's turn to smirk.

HDHDHDHD

Draco's dignity was certainly being insulted here but he couldn't bring himself to care. The way Potter was looking at him was just so…mouth watering. Before he could give another thought to his Malfoy pride, Potter's lips were crashing down on his again, demanding cooperation. Draco complied, all too happy to melt into a puddle of mush under the ministrations of the Golden Boy.

Closing his eyes, Draco felt those glorious hands find their way under his shirt. Slowly, they travelled over his chest, exploring. He gasped out loud when he felt two fingers quickly tweak one of his nipples. A small chuckle escaped the other boy's lips. Good Lord, he could stay like this forever.

"Ahem!" an angry voice spoke up near the foot of the bed. Both boys' heads snapped up, cautiously looking over to see a very stern looking Madam Pomfrey. The blush that crept onto Potter's face was lovely, and Draco lifted a hand, to stroke the pink cheek. Potter let out a very erotic sounding mewl. "Ahem!" Madame Pomfrey repeated, obviously more than just a little ruffled. With a sigh, Potter rolled off of Draco, though he refused to let go of the Slytherin's hand. Not as afraid of the witch as the "brave" Gryffindor seemed to be, Draco simply smiled up at her.  
"Lovely day, eh Madame Pomfrey?" she bristled at his brazen tone.

"Mr. Malfoy, I will not stand for this behavior. If you cannot keep your sexual urges to yourself, I will be forced to send you back to your classes. Please do not give me further reason to do so." After he small lecture, she moved swiftly to Potter, and gave him a thorough check. Potter paid no attention to her, letting his gaze settle shamelessly on Draco's tousled hair and disheveled clothing. He licked his lips. Draco just smirked at his obvious lust.

Once Madame Pomfrey deemed Potter to be healthy, she swiftly left the room to return to her office, but not before throwing one more warning glance over her shoulder, more the Draco than to Potter. He just winked cheekily at her. Ignoring his manner, the nurse shut her office door behind her.

"Must you antagonize everyone like that?" Potter sighed, preparing to snuggle back down with Draco. However, the Slytherin slid out of bed, getting a reign in on his inner Trygg. He had been careless, he realized too late. He had allowed himself to succumb to Potter's allure, to his sheer magnetism. The young blond would have to be more careful next time.

Potter seemed to accept Draco's once again distant manner as he stretched and hopped off the bed, heading towards the infirmary's bathrooms to take a shower. Draco watched him go with a whirl of emotions raging through him. Excitement, fear, anger, lust, determination. They all tumbled in onto each other until one emotion couldn't be separated from the other. Squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temple, Draco tried to clear his mind. He had to get a grip on his self-control.

_Taste your forbidden fruit…_

"Quiet you." He mumbled to himself. "I don't want to hear from you today, understand?" The voice seemed to get the idea, for it didn't answer back.

Suddenly, without warning, the hospital wing doors burst open and Snape came in with billowing robes and all, eyes dancing anxiously as he nervously regarded the young Malfoy heir. Draco looked up to his godfather with pleading eyes.

"Please, Severus, please tell me you have it…" he whispered desperately. He saw the brief internal battle Severus was going through as guilt crept into his features. Seeming to come to some unspoken conclusion, he pulled a small vial out of his robes with a defeated sigh.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Draco?" Severus' voice implied that he knew much more than he was letting on about the young Slytherin's plan. His godson regarded him sharply, his eyes hardening.

"I will not allow him to get an inch closer to that monster whom my Father so loyally follows. Being with me would be more than an inch. It would hundreds of miles. He is my mate," the whole truth of those words hitting him hard, "and I will do everything in my power to protect him. If that means that I have to push him to the other side of the earth—" a horrible pang struck his chest at the thought of being so far away form Potter, "—then so be it. As long as he is safe from that monster." Without another look to his godfather, Draco briskly strode over to the bedside table where a jug of water sat. Throwing one look over his shoulder to make sure that neither Pomfrey or Potter had entered the room, he quickly uncorked the vial and poured it into the water, resisting the urge to stir it with his wand, which he had read could ruin the potion. Only once all of the vial's contents had been emptied would Draco allow himself to turn towards his godfather again.

"Severus, if you could have chosen between my father's suffering or staying far away from him, honestly, which would you have chosen?" his voice was quiet, pensive, as he questioned his motives one last time. Severus let out a defeated sigh.

"I would have let him go. Nothing is worth his pain." He confessed, stepping close to his young godson and putting both hands on Draco's shoulders. This was as much of an embrace as the Potions Master had, but Draco knew that even these were rare and filled with sentiment. Looking one last time over at the jug of seemingly harmless water on the table, Draco let one single tear fall from his eye. He didn't bother to wipe it away, instead letting it drip down and disappear under his collar. It was then that he would make sure he would never shed a single tear again for keeping Potter... Harry—safe. He had made his decision. Now, he needed to follow through.

HDHDHDHD

As Harry exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, he was surprised to see Draco sitting on the bed, smiling lazily, yet somewhat sadly at him, and with a glass of water in his hand. Harry raised an eyebrow at the Slytherin, but received no response. Shrugging, he moved over to the pile of fresh clothes that the house elves had probably brought from his dorm room.

"Harry?" the boy in question froze, his heart thudding loudly. Had Draco just…called him by his first name? He had never done that, even when he was molesting him in the corridors. Trying to compose himself, the young brunette looked over at the beautiful boy sitting on his bed, trying not to leap on him. If Draco sensed any of Harry's quirky behavior, he made no mention of it. Instead, he held up the glass of water in his hands, a sad smirk on his face.

"I couldn't help but noticing how dry your mouth was," he teased cheekily, "I thought you could use some water." Harry raised an eyebrow again at the nurse-like persona Draco was taking on, but wasn't about to refuse the boy when he was calling him by his first name with that sexy little drawl of his. Smiling, Harry took the glass, pretending to look into it suspiciously.

"Is it poisoned?" He teased the young Slytherin, who seemed to stiffen at his words.

"Naturally." He replied, trying to smile at the confused looking brunette.

Laughing at Draco's response, Harry held the glass up, in mock toast of the young blond, and bam, downed the whole drink in one go, tipping his head back and giving Draco a very tempting view of his golden neck. Before the Slytherin could move, however, Harry was bringing his head back up, a sparkle in his eyes and a big smile plastered on his face, as if he had just won the Quidditch World Cup.

Draco held his breathe, waiting. That was all. It was done. He could leave now. He had to finish the damned plan. Trying to appear calm as he looked into his mate's eyes one last time, Draco smiled sadly once more, before leaning forward and giving Harry a small, chaste kiss on his lips. Then, while he still had control over his movements, turned on his heel and briskly left the infirmary, satisfied that he heard no gasping or panting as he closed the door behind him. Harry was safe now.

There was only one thing left for Draco to do.

Disappear.

Disappear completely from Harry's life. Every facet, every component of Harry's life would be Draco-free.

As the blond rushed into his dorm to quickly gather his belongings, Draco blocked out the voice that was screaming at him fervently to turn around and go back to Harry. Muttering a quick hover charm to make his trunk float behind him as he walked, Draco snatched his cloak and hurried out the room, not even bothering to leave a note for his dorm mates.

Draco arrived at the door of his godfather's office, quickly rapping on the oak three times. It immediately opened and Draco was inside in a flash. He didn't want to have a single second to have the chance to change his mind. He was doing this.

As he stood face-to-face with Severus for the second time that day, Draco _knew_ that he was doing the right thing. It was probably the most selfless thing he had done for anybody, and a sense of calm swept over him.

"Are you ready to go, then?" Severus asked his godson, regarding the floating trunk behind him. After Draco had poured the potion into Harry's water jug, he and Severus had discussed how Draco would escape the castle. They had agreed on Severus' floo. Draco had no idea where he was about to go, but if his godfather was sending him there, then he knew he'd be safe.

"Yes, I'm ready," Draco spoke softly, trying to keep a hold on the calm that had settled over him. Severus indicated that Draco step into the grate and he obeyed, taking a handful of Floo Powder in his hand, his luggage trailing behind him into the fireplace.

"Remember, the portkey is the battered old clock with the green numbers. I'll be there later tonight to check on you." Severus reminded his godson, worriedly. Draco nodded at this, and without one more thought, he called out his destination, and threw down the powder.

And with that, Draco Malfoy was gone.

Gone from Hogwarts.

Gone from Harry.

And gone, he thought, from the Trygg lurking within him.

**A/N: Don't hate meeeeeee! This is not the end! I swear! I promise. MORE. TO. COME. LOVERLIES! Thanks for putting up with my cliffhanging bullshit. Y'all are great!**


	9. 3 Years, 2 Months, 18 Days, And Counting

**THREE YEARS, TWO MONTHS, EIGHTEEN DAYS, AND COUNTING. **

Harry stared down lazily at the blond head of hair bobbing up and down at his crotch. Truth be told, he had lost interest in the boy quite some time ago, having decided that the youth's skin was too dark, and his sense foreplay extremely limited. Letting out a tired sigh, the former Gryffindor turned over, feeling his cock slip from the other boy's mouth.

"Go," the brunette sighed, frustrated. The blond, whose name he had forgotten as soon as the boy had introduced himself, whimpered in protest and tried to snake an arm around Harry's waist. Tensing, Harry quickly pushed away the too-tanned Muggle, sighing again. So it was going to be one of _those_ goodbyes, was it? "Look kid, you got talent," what a lie, "but I'm not the cuddling type. So just get your clothes on and move your pretty ass out of here before it gets too dark." Without another word, Harry turned away from the blond, wrapping his blanket over his shoulders and closing his eyes. _Just go away…_

After what felt like hours, the other boy shifted off the bed, gathering his clothes up. After a rustle of fabric and a quick zip, the blond left the room without a word.

It wasn't until the front door of the apartment had shut and the feet padded away that Harry let himself break out into tears…

It had been three years, two months, and eighteen days since Draco Malfoy had left him standing there in the infirmary. Harry hadn't seen him once since them. However, he could still remember the Slytherin's face with perfect clarity. The way his straight nose curved softly at the tip, the way those pink lips pouted out when something wasn't going his way, and those eyes…

God…Harry missed those eyes. The mercury color of them, the way they softened and hardened and flashed. The way they had stared at Harry three years, two months and eighteen days ago.

Only in the privacy of his home, sheltered by the nighttime, and after his "guest" left, did Harry allow his façade to fade away, his mask to shatter, and completely break down in agony, yearning still for the blond boy who had left him in the infirmary three years, two months, and eighteen days ago.

"Why did you leave me, Draco?" the brunette wailed helplessly. He curled into fetal position, trying to hold himself together. His heart ached, his head throbbed, and his hands went numb. After one last scream of anguish, Harry's body mercifully shut down, and the nineteen year old passed out, fading into a dreamless sleep.

HDHDHDHD

Harry woke to the sound of someone entering his house through the floo.

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione's indignant voice echoed throughout the flat. "You have exactly twenty seconds to explain to me where you disappeared to last night!"

Harry winced at the hysteria in her voice but was quickly soothed when he heard Ron.

"I wouldn't fool around, mate. She's out for blood." He warned. Harry chuckled a bit to himself but felt a bit bad too. Last night had been Ron and Hermione's anniversary and they had all gone out with a bunch of other Gryffindors and Luna for a night on the town. However, Harry had returned home early, with the tanned blond in tow, ready to…ahem…_ease_ his pain away. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Harry took a deep breath, bracing himself for Hermione's wrath.

As he stepped into the living room, he was amused to see that Hermione was bustling about the kitchen, making him breakfast. Ron was flipping through that morning's _Daily Prophet_ and for the first time since last night, Harry felt happy…at least a little. More so than he had when he was shoving his cock down that poor boy's throat, at least.

"'Mornin'" he mumbled sleepily, joining Rob on the couch. Reading over Ron's shoulder, it was not long before the pleasant fumes of bacon, eggs, and coffee wafted to his nose. However, it was obvious that he would not be getting his breakfast any time soon by the sound of Hermione's feet as she stamped across the floor to come at a stop in front of him, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Harry, how could you just leave us like that!" she shrieked. She was truly losing her temper, which was extremely rare.

"I…I was missing him, Hermione…" he replied quietly, looking down at his hands, ashamed. There was a gasp from his bushy haired friend and a groan from her husband.

After Draco had left him standing in the infirmary, Harry had been under the deluded impression that Draco would eventually return. There was no way he couldn't, after all that had happened. After all that had changed. Draco _was_ coming for him, he had insisted. And there was nothing anyone could do to change his mind about it.

First, he had waited a few days…Slowly, days turned to weeks…and weeks turned to months. As the Final Battle approached, Harry had thrown himself completely into the search for the Horcruxes and the defeat of Voldemort, trying to distract him from this ache that was always there, sitting in his chest, like a lead weight. It grew progressively worse each day, but nothing that ever bedded him to the hospital like the first time. Yet it still burned constantly in his chest, that feeling of complete and total loss.

It hadn't been until a month after he had defeated Voldemort that Harry told his friends about what had happened between him and Draco. The kisses, the touching, the night in the infirmary. Everything. At first, they were completely shocked, dumbfounded at how much had happened without their notice. They had, of course, being the Gryffindors they were, blamed themselves for Harry's heartbreak, arguing they should have been there for him. Still, to this day, Hermione would every once in a while, mutter something about how they should have been in the infirmary, how they should have known something was wrong that morning when Harry hadn't shown up for breakfast.

But there was nothing that could be done now. A few months later, after some of the hysteria from the war had paled a bit, Harry had started his…self-prescribed therapy. It had begun as a way to "move on" from Draco, but it became quite apparent that there was no moving on from the blond Slytherin. Harry only found himself interested in boys with blond hair and light skin, though even then, it was only half-hearted interest. He wanted Draco, not some lousy substitute. Not some lowly Muggle replacement. But it was clear that he wasn't going to get Draco, so he went for the next best thing he could find.

One could call it sport fucking, though there was no actual shagging involved. Harry wouldn't allow it. He knew that deep down a part of him was still waiting for the day when Draco would return to him, begging on hands and knees. But as each day passed, it transformed from that, to the mindset that if Draco wouldn't take his virginity, then no one would. He only let the boys suck on his cock for an hour or two, and then send them on their way, with raging hard-ons and feelings of rejections. But Harry found himself just not caring. He couldn't bring himself to. They were just strangers to him, meaningless faces to him. One blond here, another blond there. And always Muggles. Always. Harry knew better then to try to get in bed with someone from the Wizarding World. Muggles were safer, dumber. The less each stranger knew about Harry, the better.

Now here he was, after yet another escapade, staring down at his feet like a scolded child, waiting for Hermione's response to his…excuse.

"Well, Harry, you know that we don't approve of your…decisions. We would much rather you be…monogamous. However, if it does ease your pain the way you say it does…" Hermione trailed off. All three of them knew that it didn't ease Harry's pain in the least bit. It probably even made it worse. Every time he saw a head of blond hair, he would watch it obsessively, desperately trying to see if it was his boyhood rival turned lover. Of course, it never was. Both Hermione and Ron knew that this was one of the unhealthiest things for their dear friend to be doing, but they had no other suggestions. Harry just didn't take romantic interest in people. He got bored easily and was often impatient, frustrated by the fact that he wasn't talking to the person he actually wanted. There was also a bit of guilt there. Harry felt like he was cheating on Draco by trying to date other people, at least romantically. His heart belonged to the blond Slytherin boy, and always would. Besides, it wasn't fair to use people as a romantic outlet. A sexual outlet is one thing; sometimes, people don't get hurt. But romantic outlets? Someone _always_ got hurt.

So they allowed him to continue his "therapy", although were always trying to distract him by bribing him with tickets to Quidditch games, or guilting him into coming over for dinner. However, these could only last so long, and Harry was often restless and distracted during their outings. Now they only came over in the mornings and afternoon, knowing that once nighttime struck, their friend would again be on the prowl, searching for the boy who looked most like Draco that night.

"Look mate," Ron spoke up, snapping everyone out of their own reveries, "why don't you and I go out to Diagon Alley today? I could use a day out." He didn't even try to put hope into his voice anymore. He knew what the answer would be.

"I'm just not feeling up to it, today, mate." Harry replied, wincing a bit as he said it. He knew how often he used this excuse. And he knew that his friends knew that it was just that: and excuse. But they let it slide because he was depressed and obsessed and very clearly not getting better any time soon.

"Alright, some other time then." Ron said, plastering a smile on his face, trying to act as good-naturedly as possible.

"That's _it_, Harry!" both boys jumped as Hermione banged her fist on the coffee table, her face quite red. "You are coming with us to the Ministry ball tonight! No excuses!" She would hear none of Harry's whining, deciding to use guilt to her advantage. "You bailed on us last night. It was our anniversary Harry, and you're our best friends. You owe us." She had him. He couldn't fight guilt; he was too much of a Gryffindor for that. He numbly nodded his head in agreement, giving in. Satisfied, Hermione stomped back into the kitchen and the sound of plates and utensils filled the air as she finished making breakfast for him. Honestly, he had no idea what he would do without her.

HDHDHDHD

"Mr. Potter," Harry's boss sounded annoyed. It most likely had something to do with the fact that he was over and hour late to work…again.

After the Final Battle, Harry had decided that he didn't want to be an Auror. The fighting, the killing, he had enough of that. After his years at Hogwarts were completed, he had started to help in the reconstruction of Diagon Alley, which had been virtually shut down during the climax of the war. Another one of the Reconstructionists, Miles Pules, had become fairly good friends with Harry, and once the better part of the reconstruction had been completed, Pules became the owner of the Quidditch store, and had offered Harry a job there.

The little money that the job provided was of little significance; since Harry had the fortune his parents had left for him safely locked up in Gringotts. However, he wasn't fairly interested in the pay. It was Quidditch, one of the few elements of the Wizarding World whose rivalries were purely competitive and light-hearted. Whose goal left no one dead or injured.

As much as Harry did enjoy his job, there was one essential perk that kept him at the store for so long.

Miles had a Pensieve.

It had been difficult at first. Harry had been using almost every break he had to use the Pensieve, looking into his memories, trying to relive the little time he had spent with Draco. It soon became an addiction, and Harry had very nearly offered his entire fortune for Miles's Pensieve.

Miles was a good friend though, and had told Harry that if he didn't at least limit his usage of the Pensieve, that he would admit him into St Mungo's.

Harry, deciding that some Pensieve was better than no Pensieve, reluctantly agreed, and now he only spent his lunch break with Draco, basking in the other boy's beauty and kindness.

However, Harry had been coming to work later and later over the last few weeks, as his addiction to the flesh became more and more prominent. Although he and Miles had an amicable relationship, they still addressed each other professionally where work was concerned. As he looked into the other man's disapproving eyes, Harry sighed. He knew this would require more than just a hasty excuse.

With a jerk of his chin, Harry indicated that he wanted to discuss this in private. Nodding, Miles followed him into the back storage room. The professional façade dropped.

"What's eatin' at you, Harry?" his concerned tone touched Harry, and he grinned weakly.

"Just…relationship issues…" he mumbled. Miles knew of Harry's "sport", though he didn't know the story behind it. However, he figured that no one could approach that kind of insensitivity towards shagging without some kind of reason haunting them. Luckily, Miles wasn't the prying type; he did have a feeling that it was tied to Harry's addiction to the Pensieve, though.

"Look, mate, if you need a few days off, it's alright. I just hate seein' ya walkin' around like this." At his words, Harry's eyes grew wide and desperate.

"No! Please, Miles! If I go home, it'll just give me more time to think, and I can't handle that."

"Alright alright," Miles tried to calm down the terrified boy. "But you show up on time, Harry. You worry me sick when you don't." He placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. The brunette nodded in compliance.

HDHDHDHD

Harry watched with unseeing eyes as the couples floated across the dance floor. Their young, carefree faces. Their meaningless, constant chatter. It made Harry sick.

"You know, I read somewhere that if you stare at people long enough, you can see right through them," a voice murmured next to him. He turned to look at Ginny, who was grinning up at him with a knowing smile. Unable to help himself, Harry grinned back. Her optimism was contagious. This had proved to be rather dangerous after Draco had left.

Ginny had the uncanny ability to made Harry smile, no matter what the situation. It was because of this that he had latched onto her as a friend, as someone who could save him from his own misery. However, as time continued on, he started smothering her, getting angry when she cancelled on him or if her attention wasn't focused on him whenever they were out. He craved her positive attitude. He knew that without it, he would fall back into his misery. So he clung on.

It wasn't until he had shown up at the Burrow at three in the morning, demanding to know why Ginny had cancelled on him again, that she had decided enough was enough. Now they only saw each other in small doses, which was probably for the best.

As he looked down at Ginny's blue dress and auburn hair, he thought that, had it not been for Draco, he probably would have married her. Things had slowly been moving in that direction anyway, although her relationship with Dean had made things…awkward. He could have loved her like a wife. He could have had a family with her. She could have made him happy.

But because of Draco, Harry believed that happiness just wouldn't be enough.

"Care to dance, Gin?" he asked her, holding out a hand. She teasingly batted her eyelashes in mock-flattery.

"Why, I would be honored, Harry." Laughing, she took his hand and they joined in with the other dancers, gliding across the dance floor.

As he threw his head back to laugh at a joke Ginny had made about the Minister's dress robes, Harry's eye caught a flash of silvery blond hair. He froze.

_Could it be...?_

Looking around wildly, Harry tried to locate the head of hair again. It kept on flashing by in his periphery, jumping from place to place, driving him mad.

"Harry?" Ginny's concerned voice fell on deaf ears. "Harry are you alright?"

Without another word, Harry broke away from the girl, bolting off to where the last flash of hair had been. He saw it once more out of the corner of his eye, dashing out the entry doors.

"Oh no you bloody don't." he snarled to himself, taking off again towards the doors. Just before he could open them though, someone moved deliberately in front of him.

"Harry, where do you think you're going?" Hermione tapped her foot angrily.

"Hermione! It's not what it looks like…I just saw….he was here….I need to catch him!" he blabbered on, unable to get coherent sentences out. Hermione was a smart girl though, and realization dawned on her.

"Harry…" she tried to speak gently, "He's not here. No one has seen or heard from him in three years—"

"Two months, and nineteen days." He corrected her.

"Yes, exactly. He's obviously been in hiding. He wouldn't just show up to a very public Ministry event." She stated logically.

"But he has, Hermione! I've seen him!" Any hopes of catching the other boy to find out if it really was Draco had been dashed. Surely he had apparated off to some far away place by now.

"Harry, he's gone. If he was planning on coming back, he would have by now. You need to let him go before it drives you mad."

"…it already has…" he whispered in reply.

**A/N: Okay I know this chapter royally sucks but it's just to introduce all that's happened and how it's affected Harry. I'm sorry to those of you who don't like post-war stories =[ I hope you still read it! More shall come soon. **


	10. Go Where Your Heart Takes You

**A/N: I would like to apologize to everyone for the long wait. Especially **__**for threatening me enough in Physics class to make me post. I love you all**

**GO WHERE YOUR HEART (COCK) TAKES YOU**

"Potter!" Miles' angry voice was the last thing Harry heard before a firm hand pulled him out of the Pensieve. He stumbled to the ground as his boss looked down at him, an aggravated expression on his usually calm face. Without a word, Harry quickly got up and ran back over to the Pensieve; vial in hand, to extract the precious memory of that night at the Ministry Ball.

Each day since that night, Harry had been using every possible break to look back on that memory again and again, determined to discover the identity of the blond head that had teased him so cruelly. Even in the memory, however, everything was fast and blurry, not giving the poor boy a chance to get a closer look. It was rather frustrating, actually.

"Sorry, Miles…" Harry muttered, ashamed at his obsessive behavior. Sliding the glass vial back into his trouser pocket, Harry slumped out of the room, returning to his work. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him before he went back into the store.

"I don't like this, Harry," Miles spoke softly but sternly, "It's like you're regressing. I don't want to see you going back to how you were when you first got here. It's unhealthy to dwell on the past so much."

Harry knew those words were true, but he couldn't shake the feeling that that blond hair had belonged to Draco Malfoy.

"I'm sorry Miles, there's just been a lot to think about lately. I'll cut back, I promise." Even as he attempted a reassuring smile, he knew the words were a lie. He was so close to getting it, he just knew it. With one last look at Miles, Harry returned to his station at the store, absentmindedly greeting and assisting the customers entering the store.

"I need…" he muttered to himself, "I need…a mouth…" he finished, deciding that he would stop by the club tonight and pick someone up. Maybe even two someones if he was feeling kinky. He chuckled darkly to himself, causing a woman who had been inspecting one of the latest broom care kits to shuffle away from him.

HDHDHDHD

Harry groaned as he sat in the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Ron and Hermione to arrive. They were all meeting to have some lunch, something Harry had reluctantly agreed to once Hermione started guilting him again.

His ears perked up at the sound of Ron's bellowing laughter as the door opened, a rush of cold air entering with them. Turning in his seat, Harry quickly waved them over, a big fat fake smile on his face as his friends excitedly approached him. Ron gave him a good-natured clap on the back.

"How ya doin', mate?" Ron asked, taking the seat next to his friend. Harry gave a non-committal shrug. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell his friends about his frequent visits to the Pensieve as of late.

"How was work?" Hermione asked casually. Harry swore, sometimes that girl could see right into his mind.

"Erm….itwasgood." he muttered quickly before taking a long sip from his Firewhiskey. Damnit. He just didn't know how to lie to his friends when they asked direct questions like that. He knew they were waiting for an explanation and he could only stall by gulping down his drink for so long. Making sure to get every last drop before surrendering to their questions, Harry made a half-hearted attempt to change the subject.

"Did you hear about Ireland's new Chaser?" his question was more directed at Ron than at Hermione who was the more observant of the two, and would better notice the obvious change in subject. His hopes fell, however, when Ron gave him a suspicious glance. Damnit and damnit again! Living with Hermione was making Ron more perceptive.

"Did something happen at work today, mate?" Ron sounded concerned, and a lot less demanding than Hermione would have been. However, this also made it harder to avoid the question by placing it under the premise of being verbally abused.

"Erm…" damn his inability to lie, damn it to hell, "I've been…consulting the Pensieve rather frequently. Miles got a bit upset today." And so, the onslaught of interrogation commenced.

"Harry! You know what happened last time! You were nearly addicted to it!" Hermione's scolding had become much more amplified lately.

"Seriously mate," Ron added, trying to stay on both Harry and Hermione's side, "you didn't look well then. You sure it's a good idea to use it so much again? You seemed to be doing better recently."

"I know what I'm doing, guys." He turned to Ron. "I think I saw Draco at the Ministry Ball the other night." Ron's jaw unhinged itself from his skull as his mouth fell open.

"Did ya talk to him?"

Harry shook his head sadly, knowing this next bit would probably put Ron on the same side of the fence as Hermione as far as this 'Draco being in town' theory went.

"Well, I'm not _one hundred_ percent sure it was him," Harry admitted sheepishly, which calmed Ron down considerably. "But it did look a lot like him, or, erm, his hair at least." Saying it out loud, Harry knew how weak it sounded. Ron fixed him with a serious stare.

"You started seeing things, mate?" His tone was joking but his face was serious. He was taking this much the same way that Hermione had. Harry told himself to find some friends who weren't married. It was much harder to gain Ron's support when the redhead was constantly trying to stay on his wife's good side.

"Look, I know what I saw, okay?" he was getting angry now. His mind flew back to the beginning of sixth year, when he had suspected Draco to be a Death Eater. He had been wrong about that one. Then again, he never really had the chance to find out for himself…damn that git for leaving him…

All odds were against him. Life just wasn't fair sometimes.

"Harry…" Hermione took a deep breath. Obviously, what she was about to say was either very important, somewhat offensive, or both. Both Harry and Ron waited several seconds before Hermione continued, fixing Harry with a frightened, yet determined stare. "You've been obsessing over the boy for three years—"

"Two months and—"

"Yes, I know!" she almost shrieked, annoyed at Harry's interruption. She took a moment to calm herself down a bit before going on. "I just…I don't think it's healthy, Harry. Maybe you should…talk to someone? Maybe someone who can help?" she bit her lip, knowing her suggestion would surely send Harry flying off the handle.

Harry didn't say anything for quite some time.

Both Hermione and Ron knew to recognize their friend's silence as more dangerous than his occasional red-faced outbursts.

It was so long before Harry said anything that when we finally did start speaking, Hermione jumped in surprise.

"You want me to see a shrink." He stated flatly in a low voice. "You think I'm crazy."

"No, Harry!" she rushed to cover, "I just don't think it's healthy for you to be obsessing over someone you haven't seen in three years!" She looked to her husband for help, but Ron was determined to remain neutral.

"You do what you need to do, mate." Ron placed a supportive hand on Harry's shoulder. He shot a warning glance at Hermione, signaling for her to ease up.

"You two are as impossible as ever!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in defeat.

HDHDHDHD

Harry's eyes roamed over the loud club, searching for a familiar-enough blond head. He couldn't help but hold off longer than usual, hoping against all hope that Draco was somewhere in the crowd waiting for Harry to come and sweep him away.

Harry shook his head at the fantasy before he could think about it too deeply. He was on a mission.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he caught eyes with a fairly pale face. He was immediately turned off, though, when he saw the other man's eyes were brown, not silver. Sighing dejectedly, Harry put his bedroom stare on and started to make his way across the dance floor to the eager Muggle. Hot sweaty bodies rubbed against him and he started losing track of his breathing, feeling claustrophobic. The things he did for release…

"Hi," the brown-eyed man murmured, almost too quietly to be heard over the music. Harry ignored the greeting and immediately started groping the young blond, pretending that he had silver eyes, aristocratic posture, and a husky bedroom voice. The man rushed to introduce himself, "I'm Tra—"

"Shut up," Harry growled into the other man's ear. He started grinding harder.

"Woah, easy there. Don't you even want to know my name?" the blond was squirming away. Harry hated when this happened.

"No," he spoke bluntly, giving one last attempt at a grind before he was inevitably pushed away. _Draco, please come back! I can't live like this…_he thought sadly to himself.

The blond turned to face him, anger written all over his features.

"Look," he huffed, "I'm not here for some casual shagging." Harry snorted at the other man's indignant tone.

"You've come to the wrong place," he sneered." Sliding his hand into the blond hair and pretending not to see those disappointingly brown eyes, Harry mustered all his effort. He was too lazy to try another seduction tonight. "Now, do you want it or not?"

The blond thought it over and Harry watched as the anger slowly faded into acceptance. Reluctantly, the man nodded, sighing.

"Where do you live?" he muttered, disappointed.

"About five miles away. Not far," Harry was already tugging him towards the door, eager to get this over with.

"Wait," the blond started panicking, obviously a bit frazzled that he was practically being dragged out to some stranger's house, "I-I'm not sure—" But Harry didn't even let him finish. He'd had enough. He was too agitated to handle a nervous mess right now. Letting go of the other man's shirt, he walked out the door, leaving him standing at the threshold. Jogging to round the building, he made his way to the alley. He looked around to make sure no Muggles could see him, and then in the blink of an eye, Harry quickly apparated back to his flat.

The tears were falling before he could make it to his bed.

HDHDHDHD

"Potter, I'm giving you a few weeks off," Miles stated flatly as Harry was closing up the shop the next day. The brunette gaped at his boss.

"You're _what!_" Harry did not need this on top of everything else right now. Why couldn't _one thing_ just stay consistent in his life? Why was everything always changing so rapidly? When did he get to be happy? Why why why?

"You're not well, Harry," Miles fell back into their comfortable familiarity. "You're like a shell. The only time I ever see any emotion in your face is before and after you use the Pensieve." Harry was still gaping at him in disbelief and Miles let out a sigh at the sight of his distraught friend.

"Miles, please. I need this job. It gives me something to do. I need—"

"What you need Harry is to get out of the Wizarding World for a few weeks. Go traveling maybe. Christmas is in three weeks. Take off until then and come back after the New Year. You deserve some happiness, Harry." His employee's eyes snapped up to his.

"Miles…I don't know where to go…what to do…"

"You'll figure it out, Harry. Don't worry about it. Just go where your heart takes you," a glint of humor entered his eyes, "and if I see you around here before January, you're fired," it was meant to be a joke, but Harry couldn't help but wonder how much seriousness lay under those words.

As Harry stepped out the store into Diagon Alley, he couldn't help but think that maybe Miles was right. Maybe he did need time away from the Wizarding World. He needed some normalcy, some Muggle-ness. Absentmindedly roaming the street, Harry's mind wandered to all of the places he could visit; he had always wanted to go spend some time in the mountains. Maybe do a bit of hiking. He still had no plans for Christmas, though he assumed he would spend it with Ron and his family at the Burrow. The New Year would be tricky. He wasn't sure he could handle being around all the couples once the clock struck twelve. Maybe he could convince Ginny to go on a trip with him to get away from all the married people and just have an adventure. He chuckled as he imagined Ginny's terse lips and stern glare, looking far too much like her mother, at the mention of the idea. Ginny cared about Harry, but was still wary of him latching on again.

Something flashed in Harry's peripheral vision and his eyes snapped up. He caught sight of the blond head of hair just as it turned down one of the side alleys, disappearing from view. Harry's lips curled into a smile.

"You're not getting away this time…" he muttered, quickly speeding up his pace to follow the blond. Harry jogged down the alley, eyes catching the head of hair as it entered into one of the pubs, the door slamming shut behind. Frantically, Harry sped towards the door and yanked it open. Much to his disappointment, however, it was only a small empty storage space, just pretending to be a pub.

"Drat…" he mumbled, before slamming the door and stomping away, feeling like Alice looking for the famed white rabbit.

HDHDHDHD

The music pulsed throughout the entire room as Harry found himself in the all too familiar club with hot bodies pressed against him. Miles _had_ told him to go where his heart took him…okay, so maybe his dick had taken him here more than his heart, but it was a helluva lot better than sulking at home.

The flashing lights altered his vision and everyone appeared to have skin with pulsating blue and purple tints. He giggled at the thought of a Muggle entering a bathroom, only to look into the mirror to see that their skin had changed colors. Feeling giddy (not to mention, a bit drunk), Harry fingered his wand in his pocket, tempted to magic the obnoxious girl next to him into have blue skin with pink polka dots.

The idea was squashed, however, when he saw a very delicious looking bum dancing only a few feet away. Smirking, Harry jigged his way over to the writhing body, pushing his groin against the two firm globes, and moaning in excitement when the bum pushed back. The man was about a head taller than Harry, and while the brunette usually only went for shorter men, something about this guy's arse had him captivated. The body in front of him turned and in that movement, Harry turned as well, their positions quickly reversing as the taller man pushed _his_ groin into Harry's behind.

Under any other circumstances, Harry would have pushed away. He liked having control. But something about the way this man moved; it was erotic and sensual and Harry felt like they were doing one big shag-dance. Two soft lips brushed against his ear and Harry shuddered at the sensation, his skin erupting in goose flesh.

"Hi…" _God,_ that voice sounded so sexy, even as it spoke a word as simple as 'hi'.

"Hi…" Harry breathed back, his stomach twisting and turning as slender hands gripped tighter at his hips, taking more control. Harry just pushed back, ignoring the dominating nature of the gesture.

"Eager are we?" the voice sounded amused and chuckled at Harry's brazenness. A hand traveled closer to Harry's groin, brushing against his trouser pocket. Harry stiffened as the fingers lingered on the wand's bulge. However, the other man didn't seem to think much of it, and simply brought the hand to rest directly on Harry's belt. The brunette relaxed.

"I have a flat not far away…" Harry murmured lustfully. He didn't know who this man was, didn't even see his face, didn't even know his hair color. But he found he could care less at the moment. The man could be the ugliest thing in the world but that voice alone could bring him to climax. He tugged eagerly at the man's hand, pulling him across the dance floor in a sensual haze. Good Lord, what had this man done to him?

As they trekked outside into the brisk evening air, Harry felt slim fingers slid into his pocket and grasp his wand. He froze immediately.

"Mmm, naughty little wizard taking advantage of the Muggles?" the voice scolded playfully, before removing his hand from Harry's trouser pocket. Harry closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He only ever took Muggles home, he chided himself. However, he argued, he had made quite a few exceptions for this man, whose face he still had yet to see.

"Well this will just save us time," he growled

Without turning around once, Harry simply dragged the other man with him to the alley that he had apparated from alone the night before. Now, with this wizard stranger in tow, Harry felt an excitement building in his chest that he hadn't felt in years. This man would recognize him the instant they apparated to his flat. He would know that the 'Great Harry Potter', that the 'Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Die' was not only bent, but dragged strangers home with him without even asking for a name. The danger and scandal of the situation only pushed Harry to move more quickly, already hard with anticipation.

Tightly gripping the man's hand, Harry turned to face him, but it was too dark in the alley to see more than a few inches in front of him. He didn't really care though. Running his hands over the man's chest, Harry smirked at the small pants that escaped the stranger's lips, sounding oddly familiar to Harry. He shook the thought away, however, when two demanding hands reached out and two index fingers hooked through his trouser's belt loops. Using this as leverage, the other man pulled Harry's body flush against his own, bending his head to inhale the scent of Harry's neck.

"Apparate us to your flat," the voice growled, the sound shooting straight to Harry's cock, "_Now_,"

Not wasting any time, Harry gripped onto the other man's shoulders, though both men knew the increased contact was unnecessary. With the familiar tug in his belly, Harry felt them twist and bend through space and in less than a second, they were in his dark bedroom, already attacking each other's lips in deep passionate fervor.

"So…you…never…told me…your name…" the voice spoke between kisses, the obvious question behind the statement hanging in the air.

Harry knew it would be foolish to tell the man. There weren't many Harry's in the Wizarding World, none that he knew of at least; the man had also removed his glasses for him, and the first name would be a dead give away to whom he really was.

And yet…

And yet Harry found himself trusting the stranger for some reason. Whatever happened, happened. Besides, he was curious to see how the other man would react when he found out he was making out with the Poster Child of the Wizarding World. Taking a deep breath, Harry spoke.

"My name….is Harry..." he tested the waters, seeing if the man would be dumb enough to push for his surname.

Suddenly, the hands which had been creeping under his shirt stilled, and the man went completely stiff.

"H-Harry?" all confidence in the man's voice had disappeared, replaced with complete and total fear.

"Yessir. Harry Potter." He had frozen his hands as well, deciding to wait for the other man to make the next move. "And what, may I ask, is _your_ name?"

The other man's breathing was shallow, and it made Harry nervous. Was this man seriously judging him just because he was Harry bloody Potter?

In less than a second, the hands were gone, the mouth was gone, the man was gone. Harry was half-expecting this reaction, most people thought him still to be a golden, incorruptible child. How wrong they were.

"_Lumos!_" Harry cried before the man could leave the room, and the light washed over them both, illuminating everything.

That's when he saw the blond hair…the more-than-familiar white blond hair…

He almost dropped his wand in disbelief. _No…it couldn't be_…

The man had frozen, standing stiff in the threshold of the door, shoulders rising and falling in shaky breath.

Slowly, the blond head turned and Harry, for the first time in three years two months and twenty-three days, looked into the mercury eyes of Draco Malfoy.

**A/N: CLIFFHANGER OF DOOM! Seriously you guys, I don't know why you put up with me and my obvious cruelty. I'm sure there's some fanfiction term for this. Perhaps author/reader abuse? I dunno. I look forward to your outraged and indignant reviews!**


	11. Reunion

**REUNION**

At first, the fact that Harry's long lost lover was standing right in front of him didn't register at first. Everything seemed out of focus for a moment, and he wasn't able to put two and two together. Then, when the blond parted those beautiful pink lips and spoke, everything came crashing down, reality hitting Harry like a ton of bricks and then some.

"H-Harry?" that voice…Harry was shocked he hadn't recognized the aristocratic and foreign sound of it. The sound that he had craved for the past three years.

"Draco," Harry stated flatly. The shock of the situation was still there, but he saw everything with perfect clarity. Draco Malfoy was here, in his flat; hair mussed and eyes still hazy from the delicious make-out session that had occurred just moments ago.

Harry took one step forward…then another…then another. It was as if he wouldn't believe it until he saw it up close for himself. But he knew, staring into those pools of silver, that this was the man he had been thinking about nonstop for _three bloody years_.

Draco was here….

He had just shown up. After three years. He had lured Harry into a full-blown snog fest. After all this time. And all he could say was "Harry"?

Oh, _hell_ no!

It happened so fast that Harry wasn't even sure he had actually done it. But the proof was there, in a crumpled heap on the floor. Draco was clutching his nose, groaning in pain from the shock of Harry's fist connecting with his face.

"'K," he muttered bitterly, "I deserved that one." Wiping the blood from his nose on the back of his sleeve, Draco looked as if he was debating whether or not he should bother to stand up. He was sure Harry would just knock him down again. He decided to stay put.

"_You bastard!"_ Harry cried out, magic rushing to his finger tips as he felt the familiar building of pressure that always signaled when he was about to lose control of his magic. "Three! Bloody! Years!" he shrieked.

That's when the first window shattered, glass spraying the room. Before either man could react, another window burst. Then another. And another. The cold December air started gushing in and Harry was breathing heavily, eyes glued to Draco, not even paying attention to what was happening around him. Draco hurried to try to placate him.

"Harry, please let me explain—"

"_Explain!_" Harry was not to be reasoned with. "You want to _explain_ why you spent a good four days making me think I had fallen in love, only to leave and let me spend three years _knowing _that I had, and lost it all!" Draco had enough sense not to attempt to answer Harry's outraged interrogation. The blond was faintly aware of dishes and glassware shattering in the kitchen. "You never wrote, you never flooed, you never even left me with an explanation! You just walked right out of my life, leaving me to wander around like a zombie for three bloody years of my life!" With that last sentence came a loud _crack_ and suddenly, the bed was on fire. Draco watched as the flames engulfed the fabric and slowly started to lick the carpet.

"Um…Harry?" Draco tried to get the other boy's attention but it was not happening. Harry continued to cry and shout obscenities at Draco. However, the blond was no longer listening, his eyes glued on the scene before him. He was terrified that Harry would really lose control and focus his magic on Draco. With that thought in mind, Draco jumped up. Giving Harry a good shake, he managed to snap the boy out of his rant, but things were still shattering and bursting into flames around them and Harry's eyes were boring deep into him, burning him with their accusatory glare. There was a dull pounding on the front door and Draco assumed that the commotion had woken the neighbors. However, the situation proved to be much more serious than that when the words being yelled from the other side became clearer.

"Mr. Potter! We demand that you take down your magic wards at once!" the voice called angrily.

"Shit," Harry muttered angrily, "The Aurors…" He was confused. This wasn't Ministry business…was it? The Ministry wasn't even supposed to know where he lived, though he hadn't believed that even when the Minister himself had assured Harry that there would be no intruding on his personal life. They had no right to demand entry! This was between him and the stupid blond prat!

That's when he looked out the window. Shooting stars were falling from the sky, making quite the spectacle. It would have been pretty had there not been for the miniature asteroids crashing into buildings and streetlamps, sending everything they came into contact with to spark up in flames. The Ministry wasn't here to interfere with Harry's personal life. They were here to stop him from destroying a good chunk of Muggle London. Harry became entranced as more and more flaming rock fell from the sky.

"Harry!" Draco called out, tugging on the boy's sleeve anxiously. "Harry!" The brunette snapped out of his haze and looked over at the blond who was now standing right in front of him, shouting angrily and desperately. He seemed relieved when he saw Harry's eyes register.

"Draco?" Harry was beginning to feel faint, the impact of so much magic at once having drained his system almost completely. His eyes fluttered a bit and his sight flashed. This was not good.

"Harry? I'm going to Apparate us out, okay?" The blond didn't give him the chance to respond. He was already grabbing Harry's hand.

After feeling that familiar twisting in his stomach, Harry realized that they were no longer at his flat. They now stood in a small living room with a blazing fire and a very comfortable looking sofa. He only had a few moments to admire the furnishings before he passed out.

HDHDHDHD

Draco paced back and forth in the small living room, muttering to himself. How had this happened! One minute he was losing himself in sexual bliss and the next, he was home with a bloody nose and The Boy Who Drove Him Mad sleeping in the next room. What a mess.

After Harry had abruptly passed out, Draco had levitated him into his own bedroom, not trusting himself to touch the brunette. With a quick flick of his wrist, the blankets folded themselves to settle over Harry's sleeping body, the smaller boy completely oblivious to it all.

Now here he was, fifteen minutes later, pacing, worrying. How had he been so stupid? He knew better than to go wandering around Wizarding London. The risk was unbelievably high. What if he had run into someone from Hogwarts, or one of his father's associates, of someone from the Ministry? He gulped at that thought. He had been classified as "missing" about three months after he had left Hogwarts and while he wasn't necessarily wanted for any crimes, he knew that if caught, he'd have quite a bit of explaining to do.

Luckily, Voldemort hadn't been able to find him. The wards Severus had helped Draco put up were far too strong and his location far too isolated. However, Draco had been worrying the entire time, from the moment he left Hogwarts until the news had come that Harry Potter, The Chosen One, The Boy Who Bloody Lived, had finally defeated the Dark Lord, and the Wizarding World was safe once more.

Deciding that he couldn't put it off any longer, Draco flooed Severus. He had to get Harry out of here. It was too abrupt, too harsh, for them to meet in such a fashion after him being gone for so long. He would never forgive himself for walking out on Harry, and he was fairly sure that Harry wanted to throttle him within an inch of his life. No, it wouldn't do to have Harry hiding out here while the Ministry was looking for him. Surely he would get in loads of trouble for the amount of magic he had lost control of at the sight of Draco.

He needed to get Harry out of here, preferably before he woke up. Maybe he could bring him over to Weasley's or Granger's and Obliviate him, leaving him to think the entire situation to be a dream. As much as it pained him, Draco knew it was the best option. Not wasting any more time, he got ready to floo Severus.

His godfather was going to murder him.

HDHDHDHD

Things were foggy as Harry's eyes slowly opened. It was dark in the room, save for the fire that blazed in the room. He was in a very comfortable bed with heavy duvets piled on top of him. Harry was about to fall asleep again when all the memories from before came flooding back.

The club.

The Ministry.

The shooting stars.

Draco…

Jumping out of the bed, Harry ran to the door of the bedroom, hissing as his legs tingled with pins and needles. Taking a deep breath and trying to calm his racing heart, he gently pushed open the door, peaking out into a small, empty hallway. He heard voices coming from another room and quietly tiptoed down the hall. As he turned the corner, he was surprised to see Draco with his head in the fireplace, apparently talking to someone via floo. Harry was about to interrupt but was more than a little distracted at the sight of Draco's perfect bum sticking up in the air as he bent into the flames. Licking his lips, Harry had to mentally scream at himself to not give into the temptation to go up and give the blond prat a good smack on the arse.

To show he was displeased of course….

Harry was about to stomp up to the blond and demand an explanation but stopped dead in his tracks at the words he heard pouring from Draco's mouth.

"I can't do it, Severus," it sounded almost as if he were crying. "I can't sit around here and watch him go about his business without just wanting to—" a loud sob choked his words.

"Draco," Harry's ears perked up even more at the sound of his former potion master's voice. "I know you're scared but I highly encourage an attempt to bond. There is no longer a threat looming over your head. The Dark Lord is gone. You should have been on Potter's doorstep the moment you learned of Voldemort's defeat."

What were they talking about? Bonding? There was clearly something going on that Harry had no clue about, but he wasn't very happy remaining in the dark. He knew better than to speak up now. He wanted as much information as he could possibly get now.

"But Severus, he's so angry. You should have seen him back at his flat. He looked like he wanted to kill me. How could he ever forgive me? I wouldn't be surprised if he just tries to walk out the minute he wakes up." Harry's chest tightened at the sound of complete and total heartbreak in Draco's voice. A single thought came to him, _Comfort him…_He was about to unthinkingly oblige but stopped himself, knowing he had to wait it out just a bit longer.

"He won't, Draco. He is your mate. He can't just walk out on you. It's impossible. More than likely, he will feel the pull of the bond. He can't deny his feelings for you. Not after so long."

"But I'm worried Severus. Even if he _does _accept the bond, what if it doesn't work? How do we know for sure my heart didn't freeze when my month was up? How do we know!" Draco was sounding more and more frantic and the urge Harry felt to help the boy was mounting; but he forced himself to stay put. He was gaining more and more information and after this floo call was done, he would corner Draco into telling him everything. He deserved the truth.

"Draco, we've been through this over and over: you would _know_ if your heart had frozen. Trust me. I don't know why it didn't but I can tell you for sure: your heart is still beating. And not just beating. It's beating for Potter. You can't hide from him anymore Draco. You've isolated yourself long enough. Now you must face him. And if he's anything like the Potter from your school days, he will be livid. But more than that, he will feel relieved. You disappeared on him and now you've 'returned'. There's no way he's going to let you go after this." Harry wasn't sure but he was almost certain that he heard a hint of smugness in Snape's tone.

Draco was quiet for a while and Harry jumped when he heard the honey sweet voice speak again.

"He will never forgive me…" he whimpered sadly. "I better go. He should be waking up soon."

"Be strong, Draco. You don't give yourself enough credit." With that, the conversation ended and Harry held his breath as Draco retreated for the flames and then spelled the floo connection closed. Harry watched in despair as the blond sat, still kneeling in front of the fire, his back to Harry.

Making a quick decision, Harry quietly crept from the room back to the bedroom he had woken up in. Draco obviously needed some time alone to think. Harry would give him an hour. One hour to sort through all the shit that Harry knew would be going through his head. But after that one hour, he would come back and he would demand an explanation for everything.

Snape was right: he was livid.

**A/N: I know it's kinda short but I just wanted to get the intro for this section out of the way. I love you all!**


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